We need to learn from the African-American church how to pursue justice precisely because we understand and live the gospel. And we need to learn from the African-American church that justice and liberation are not idols to worship, or themes to supplant the gospel. Black Church history has enough in it to teach both sides of the issue, to keep us from falling off either side of the horse.
I ran across this poem in Mark Dever's chapter entitled "2 Corinthians: Weakness" in his book The Message of the New Testament: Promises Kept. It was written by a Congregational minister named Edward Shillito during World War I.
If we have never sought, we seek Thee now;
Thine eyes burn through the dark, our only stars;
We must have sight of thorn-pricks on Thy brow;
We must have Thee, O Jesus of the Scars.
The heavens frighten us; they are too calm;
In all the universe we have no place.
Our wounds are hurting us; where is the balm?
Lord Jesus, by Thy Scars we claim Thy grace.
If when the doors are shut, Thou drawest near,
Only reveal those hands, that side of Thine;
We know today what wounds are; have no fear;
Show us Thy Scars; we know the countersign.
The other gods were strong, but Thou wast weak;
They rode, but Thou didst stumble to a throne;
But to our wounds only God’s wounds can speak,
And not a god has wounds, but Thou alone.
Dever comments, "If you stop and think about these words, you will begin to be deprogrammed from the world's lies and you will begin to be reeducated about what it means to be a Christian."
we've sold a car and bought one...
we've painted planets for the boys' new fabulouso solar system room...
we've had people over almost every night...
we've walked the aisles of the new IKEA in Charlotte...
Here is photo evidence (look! a rotten picture of me!) that I am still alive though not blogging much this week...
Also, please note that this recipe makes a TON! So either divide the recipe or have some freezer bags handy.
Or eat them all yourself, and kiss your pants size goodbye.
Hyacinth’s Everything Cookies
1 1/2 cups butter
1 1/2 cups sugar
2 cups brown sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla
4 1/4 cups flour
4 teaspoons baking soda
1 1/3 cups oatmeal
1 teaspoon salt
3 cups granola: use any kind you'd like
1 1/2 cups chopped pecans
1 1/2 cups Craisins
1 1/2 cups apricots
This recipe is from Pioneer Woman. Look here for an illustrated recipe and some hilarious play-by-play.
Whenever I hear any one arguing for slavery I feel a strong impulse to see it tried on him personally.
In regard to this Great Book, I have but to say, it is the best gift God has given to man. All the good the Savior gave to the world was communicated through this book.
The will of God prevails. In great contests each party claims to act in accordance with the will of God. Both may be, and one must be, wrong. God cannot be for and against the same thing at the same time. In the present civil war it is quite possible that God's purpose is something different from the purpose of either party - and yet the human instrumentalities, working just as they do, are of the best adaptation to effect His purpose.
Stand with anybody that stands RIGHT. Stand with him while he is right and PART with him when he goes wrong.
...I know that the Lord is always on the side of the right. But it is my constant anxiety and prayer that I and this nation should be on the Lord's side.
Welch minces no words in his explanation that what we call "self-esteem" is really a masking of what the Bible calls "shame." Read on:
Shame and low self-esteem are both rooted in Adam's sin. They both are governed by the perceived opinions of others, and the both involve "not feeling good about ourselves." The only difference is that our word "shame" still retains the idea that we are ashamed before God as well as before other people, while self-esteem is seen as strictly a problem between ourselves and other people, or a problem just within ourselves.One of my favorite parts of that quote is the word "perceived." How often do you (and I) look at others and assume what they are thinking about you? Just recently I had an experience when someone told me what they thought my husband was thinking...and they couldn't have been farther from the truth. But their statement exposed their shame in that moment, assuming that David was thinking the worst of them when in fact he was trying to help them in a practical way.
Welch goes on to say that as sinners in need of covering, we love to hide...but we love to "spy." "Spying might reveal the vulnerability of others so that we can believe that they are no different from us (or even not as good as us). Disgrace wants company."
Go back and read that again. Reality TV, anyone?
When you get right down to it, most of the problem is that we think about ourselves TOO MUCH.
Welch suggests jotting down some ways in which fear of man controls us. Here are some areas of my struggle. And you must know how easy this is for me, being the people-pleaser that I am. :-\
- Parenting: people must think...I am an irresponsible mother...I have poorly behaved children...I have wrong priorities in raising my children.
- Church: people must think...we're strange...we're not serving enough...we don't have our doctrine together...we're terribly sinful. (more on this later, she said.)
- Friends: people must think...I'm a bad friend...I'm too preoccupied with my family and not enough with my friends.
The only cure for the fear of man is a rightful fear of God! That's where the book is headed.
Is this ringing bells with anyone?
Secondly, Dana was so good as to kick my behind for not posting my latest ruminations on When People Are Big. This will happen by the end of the day today.
Lastly, I have found my children's latest theme song. And naturally I must share it with all of you.
Look who is on the cover of the newest edition of What to Expect When You're Expecting!
Edit: OK, nobody's seeing it. Someone emailed me this yesterday, thinking it looked like me...
ALSO PLEASE NOTE: This is NOT a pregnancy announcement. :-)
They found themselves standing on the very edge of the Wild Wood. Rocks and brambles and tree-roots behind them, confusedly heaped and tangled; in front, a great space of quiet fields, hemmed by lines of hedges black on the snow, and, far ahead, a glint of the familiar old river, while the wintry sun hung red and low on the horizon. The Otter, as knowing all the paths, took charge of the party, and they trailed out on a bee-line for a distant stile. Pausing there a moment and looking back, they saw the whole mass of the Wild Wood, dense, menacing, compact, grimly set in vast white surroundings; simultaneously they turned and made swiftly for home, for firelight and the familiar things it played on, for the voice, sounding cheerily outside their window, of the river that they knew and trusted in all its moods, that never made them afraid with any amazement.
As he hurried along, eagerly anticipating the moment when he would be at home again among the things he knew and liked, the Mole saw clearly that he was an animal of tilled field and hedge- row, linked to the ploughed furrow, the frequented pasture, the lane of evening lingerings, the cultivated garden-plot. For others the asperities, the stubborn endurance, or the clash of actual conflict, that went with Nature in the rough; he must be wise, must keep to the pleasant places in which his lines were laid and which held adventure enough, in their way, to last for a lifetime.
As I read that I thought how I should gain wisdom like Mole...to appreciate the adventure that comes with where my lines are laid.
Hi there. I'm your 6:30 appointment from last night.
First let me thank you for being on time and not rolling your eyes at me when I walked in carrying my six-month-old baby. Sometimes your female coworkers have been less than understanding about that.
Secondly, a little background about me: I have hair salon paranoia. While I am convinced of the value of a more expensive haircut, I sometimes have panic attacks when considering an appointment. Why, you ask? I am a complete failure at the whole small-talk-in-the-chair thing. I am bad at small talk to begin with, and then the salon environment inserts small appliances and invasion of personal space into the mix and it's all over for me. If we've already covered where you're from, what you did before you did hair, and the fact that I don't get my hair cut often enough because I have a lot of kids at home, where do we go from there? What questions are too personal? Should I try to continue talking while the blow dryer is running, or do I sound like I'm drunk because I'm trying to hear myself? I don't know. I get sweaty palms just thinking about it.
So the fact that we were able to talk at length about baseball last night was AWESOME!
Sure, you're a St. Louis Cardinals fan and you think Albert Pujols is a demi-god. I wasn't going to argue with that, since (a) you had very sharp scissors near my ear and (b) it's infinitely better than hearing someone blather on about how she wishes her boyfriend would commit. We covered the Designated Hitter controversy, how Manny is a clubhouse disease, and whether Dice-K lived up to the hype. Are you kidding me?
Then I found out you were thinking about becoming an actor before you went to hair school (Is that what they call it? --Probably not. Cosmetology school? -- Better.). And your favorite pieces to perform were....SHAKESPEARE. Oh cry me a river, do we have to talk about The Bard? Really? I might faint with dizzy joy. What character did you play in King Lear again? Talk as much as you want about that, because at least you're not telling me in hushed tones about how one of your coworkers wants you dead because you have superior hair.
When the baby started fussing, you were so kind as to let me hold her on my lap as you finished cutting. We discussed my Fear Of Bangs in a brief and pithy way, and you cut some long bangs/short layers to break me in to the idea.
And then it happened. You announced your Departure.
It was so casual, Hairdresser Man. You said, as you finished trimming the front, "Oh, in case you were going to rebook tonight, I should tell you that I'm leaving. I'm moving to D.C. in two weeks."
You can't do that, Hairdresser Man! You don't understand! This is the best haircut experience I've had in YEARS!
Don't make me go back to gossipy boyfriend talk. You can't make me! I won't do it!
Just take your scissors and stab me through the heart, Hairdresser Man.
- As if your cat didn't already hate you enough: Kitty Wigs! (via Worthington Wire)
- Legalism 101: Long on Pants, Short on Bible Verses
- Shannon perfectly sums up my thoughts in When Mom Leaves Town. I remember thinking when I was a teacher, "it's easier to come in when I'm sick than it is to prep for a sub." Motherhood is that times 100.
- Lastly, from Cake Wrecks, what may be the greatest baby shower cake ever.
Today you read your first word. It was "at." You then proceeded to read "am," "an," and "ad."
These are small words as the English language goes -- just two letters, and one little syllable each -- but you have begun one of the most wonderful journeys that this life has to offer.
Today you haltingly said the sounds, "aaah...tttt." You struggled to discipline your eyes to stay focused on the dark forms on the page. You listened carefully as I explained what "sounding out" means. You could hardly contain your excitement to become a READER.
Your excitement is childlike as you embrace a skill that you've seen your older siblings master. You are eager to follow in their -- and your father's and my -- footsteps. You long to be able to decode the words and sentences...the stories that all those brightly-colored books contain. You learned a long time ago that there is more to them than just pretty pictures.
And what of all the books that Mom and Dad read? Why are they so interesting? Most of them don't even have pictures.
Child, you're on your way! With the skills you began to develop today, you will read poetry...adventure.. .biography...theology.
You will laugh at the crazy weather in Chewandswallow. You will cross Beacon Street with the ducklings. You will knock on Mr. Badger's door with the Water Rat and the Mole.
Before long, you will enter the Giant Peach, sticky and giddy with nervous excitement. You will talk to Wilbur in the barn, smelling the hay and the cows' breath. You will weep for the loss of Old Dan and Little Ann. You will get to explore Narnia alone, without holding Daddy's hand.
Then you will stretch your muscles some more, and walk a while with Christian in Vanity Fair. You will learn something about "gentlemanly behavior" and virtue from Elizabeth Bennett. You will scratch your head at the beautiful inaction and dilemmas of Hamlet. You will long for a friend like Sam Gamgee.
Most importantly, The Word will unfold to you. You will fearfully rejoice with the Israelites as they eat the Passover supper with their shoes on. You will read of the Word Made Flesh. You will find yourself in Paul's treatise in Romans 7. You will understand better the promise of God, and how it is YES and AMEN in Christ. Oh, how I pray that the sweeping beautiful epic story of Christ's love for His Bride embraces you, from the first breath to the wedding banquet. It is all about Him, from Genesis to Revelation.
There is much to see. But today, it began with "at."
Let the adventure begin.
Sorry, Northerners (particularly my family New York and Massachusetts). Looks like there will be six more weeks of winter, if you trust the prognostications of a large rodent.
Punxatawney Phil sees his shadow
Today is a minor holiday in our home, wherein we watch the 1993 movie Groundhog Day, starring Bill Murray.
We've also made these cupcakes before...very fun!