From the Perspective of Dust

 

A little backstory on today’s poetic offering. I had a conversation on the phone with my nephew Todd as I prepared dinner last night. He has been through some upheaval, but I am grateful to know the Lord has taken hold of him.

As I spoke with him, I recalled my early days of seeking God, and trying to follow the way of truth. Trying to bumble around this new life I felt within. Trying to figure out the church and church people with all the confusing mixed messages. Trying to understand scripture and what it had to do with me.

Or more specifically, learning about the One who called Himself, in John 14:6  THE Way, THE Truth, and THE Life (emphasis mine). The One who didn’t mince words, leave room for doubt, or room to accept multiple ways. The one who cared not whether what he said would win him favor with the religious elite or the politically inclined.  More

The Problem with Lists

 

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It’s National Poetry Month (#NPM17)…

here is this morning’s poetic offering:

 

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The Revelation Prayer

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God, make a fresh start in me,
    shape a Genesis week from the chaos of my life.

Psalm 51: 10 (The Message)

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Seated in the Heavenlies (Lent 2016)

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Although this may be a poem, it was also straight from my journal this morning. I want to encourage you to make time for your spiritual self to emerge by journaling your heart and prayers on  your own journal pages. I have been feeling dry spiritually the past week…so for me this writing reflects a bit intimacy with God that has been lacking.

I will include it in my Journaling Series- as it a true reflection of my journaling journey. I pray it sparks in you the courage (if you need it) to be raw and real in your spiritual journey, whatever you believe and whatever your heart towards God at this moment.

If these words inspire, encourage or spark a response in you I’d love if  you share your thoughts right here in the comments- but even more importantly, in your own journal- as you so feel led.

As always, thanks for joining me for this journey. Here is this morning’s offering.

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Rescued From The Curse By His Grace Moment by Moment

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Standing at the kitchen counter, sleep still permeating my eyes I feel for the coffee pot, prepare the pot, as I have done so many mornings. I squint adjusting to the light well aware I’m being stalked by the morning pet parade. Three sets of eyes are staring up at me. I pour dry food into the two cat bowls, grab the dog’s leash from the coat rack and head to the door with a prancing Reindeer. Once we are out into February’s chilly morning darkness and at the canine appointed place of business, I stare up at the dark blue sky over us. I gaze at the stars. Standing in the starlight, surrounded by winter’s stillness I’m startled awake as I take inventory of my heart.

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