The treatment of churches during the Covid 19 scare has ranged from the
unreasonable and illogical to the illegal.
Dr. Gavin Ashenden
(A book store in Padua, Itlay (Padova) / Julie Cook / 2014)
When I was in high school enduring my tenure during those required lit classes,
be it American lit or British Lit, we had to read such books as 1984, A Brave New World,
Animal Farm, Lord of the Flies, The Crucible, The Scarlet Letter… ad infinitum.
And I made no bones about it, I hated each and every one of those books.
I was known for being a vocal student so I’m sure my teachers just loved hearing me
complain.
Dark, ominous, surreal…stories that showcased the devolvement of humankind…
that of the more sinister, twisted, demented, malevolent, cruel, sadistic…
tales that spoke of hopelessness…worlds without the Hope of Salvation.
During my teens, during those heady days of the mid-’70s, tales of the surreal
left me uncomfortable if not frustrated.
During those days, I was actively involved in my local EYC, my Episcopal youth group,
as well as the non-denominational Young Life Christian organization.
My lens was that of the Born Again, Charismatic, Jesus Freak movements.
I was focused on Hope springing from despair…not despair spawning deeper despair.
And yet oddly I preferred books such as The Catcher the Rye, The Old Man and the Sea,
A Farewell to Arms, The Red Badge of Courage…
but if the truth be told–
I actually loved what we had to read in my Sociology and Russian History classes—
classes where I read the likes of Solzhenitsyn, Tolstoy, and Dostoevsky.
Truthful books that examined humankind by authors who held to the knowledge of a
God greater than man.
So if I had discontent with my Lit. classes from way back in the day,
just imagine my discontent with our current world.
A world that is more like the sad world portrayed in those books we read in lit class.
A world that is fulfilling a prohpesy of the twisted, sinister, demented, malevolent,
cruel, sadistic and hopeless that men from a different time period foretold
in what was thought to be a far and distant future.
This little trip down memory lane came racing to my conciousness yesterday
after reading Dr. Ashenden’s lastest post.
His was a tale about a surreal police state and today’s Chruch…
both of which are caught up in life during a pandemic.
Life precariously and frigtheningly imitiating fiction…
“Above all, don’t lie to yourself.
The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point that he
cannot distinguish the truth within him,
or around him, and so loses all respect for himself and for others.
And having no respect he ceases to love.”
Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov
“It may be important to great thinkers to examine the world,
to explain and despise it.
But I think it is only important to love the world, not to despise it,
not for us to hate each other, but to be able to regard the world and ourselves
and all beings with love, admiration and respect.”
Hermann Hesse
“He drew a circle that shut me out-
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.
But love and I had the wit to win:
We drew a circle and took him In!”
Edwin Markham
This quote by Edwin Markham…it was one of my favorite quotes… or better yet,
it actually became a sort of life rule that I kept close to my heart when I was in high school…
way back in the mid 70’s when I first found it.
It is a quote by Edwin Markham (April 23, 1852 – March 7, 1940)
He was a poet, as well as an American poet laureate, hailing from Oregan.
He was a prolific writer with most of his work coming from the years between 1923-1931.
This quote came racing back to my thoughts yesterday after a little incident I witnessed
at my local grocery store.
Let’s think of where I live.
I live in what is considered to be a small town.
We are about an hour west of Atlanta, give or take the traffic.
Yet we are a college town.
And we are what some might consider to be a sleeper community of Atlanta.
Meaning, folks drive back and forth to the big city in order to work.
We have big businesses but we still have a cattle sale barn that operates every Monday.
It’s where the local farmers bring their animals each week to show and sell…
So yes, we have pastures, cows, goats, sheep, bulls and yet we also have
global industry, a major hospital, a Division II college, and two nationally
recognized school systems…
Our town is a good town.
A small town with rural charm along with a comfortable modern feel.
So yesterday afternoon, I ran to the grocery store, our local Publix.
As I made my way to the door, pulling my mask over my face, I saw an older woman,
in her 80’s pushing her cart out of the store.
She was sporting a Trump 2020 t-shirt along with a black Trump 2020 face mask…
smartly accenting her jean skirt and sneakers.
I noticed out of the corner of my eye an elderly gentleman approaching us pushing another
grocery cart…he was bent over with age and I surmised he was her husband.
She told me she wanted to tell me something.
As she was an older woman and I have a deep respect for older folks,
I knew I needed to pay attention to what she wanted to tell me.
I don’t care what race, creed, or religion an older person might be,
they will always have my respect.
That’s how I was raised.
I might be almost 61 myself but I will always respect those who are older than I am.
No matter who they may be or where they may come from…be they humble
beings or more well do to…our elderly population are our treasures.
They have lived through so much, be it good or bad, and they have so much to
teach each one of us.
So when one of that generation tells me they have something to tell me,
I’m all ears.
This very southern gentile woman begins to tell me that a young man…
she told me his race, but to be honest I couldn’t make out exactly what she said
given the muffled voice coming from under her mask,
I could have easily assumed she was referring to a black male, but I’m just sticking with
young male…
This young male saw her shirt and mask and told her to her face that she was a
“fucking racist.”
Suddenly I felt a sick feeling hitting my stomach like a brick.
That could have once been my grandmother.
For some punk to call my own grandmother a “fucking” anything would have
sent me reeling.
For all I know, my grandmother probably never had heard of such a word!
She was that much a southern lady…much like this woman
By this time, her hunched-over husband chimed in telling me that had he heard
this young man say that to his wife, he would have hit him but he was
not nearby as he was just trying to get a cart to help him walk.
Here was a feeble elderly man feeling that his wife has been terribly insulted
and he wasn’t there to defend her—and that tore my heart to pieces.
I apologized to this couple that such should have happened to them on this humid September
Thursday afternoon at their local grocery store in small-town USA.
I felt so hurt.
So much so that tears came to my eyes.
I could have just as easily seen an elderly black man or woman wearing a BLM shirt
at the store and I would never have ever considered saying a word.
I might have disagreed, but I would respect their choice, their right,
to wear such because that is indeed their, our, right as Americans.
I don’t have to agree, but I do have to have respect.
Why?
Because that is how I was raised.
And so that one little word, that one little issue, is, in a nutshell,
the answer to all of this idiocy taking place across this Nation of ours…
respect has died.
May she rest in peace.
And may God have mercy.
So whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them,
for this is the Law and the Prophets.
Matthew 7:12
“I love mankind, he said, “but I find to my amazement that the more I love mankind as a whole,
the less I love man in particular.”
Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov
2020 is proving to be the year that we must never mention again.
You know…as in the name that must not be spoken…
This year needs to hurry up and get put in the books— as in done!
Wishing our lives away?
Probably.
So here’s a little scenario, followed with a question.
Have you or anyone you’ve ever loved or known ever passed through that tumultuous
phase of life known as menopause?
You know…that little time in a woman’s life when her body shifts gears, things shrivel up,
fertility goes out the window and hell comes rushing in.
I can readily recall the one day that my happy-go-lucky aunt suddenly broke
down in a massive fit of tears while standing in the middle of my den wailing over
her young granddaughter and our young son having gotten into
a minor fuss over the notion of sharing–as most little kids do.
I thought she’d lost her mind until it dawned on me…
her bizarre wealth of emotion came from one place and one place only…
the dreaded “change.”
So back about 26 years ago when I was 35, I had to have a complete hysterectomy…
due to some serious health issues.
At the time, our son was in the second grade.
I was a little bummed that he would be relegated to being an only child but I
also knew the surgery was imperative.
Following surgery, when I was still in recovery, the first hot flash hit.
That’s how fast things happen minus working parts.
So enters HRT—hormone replacement therapy.
HRT was implemented because the prewired, naturally produced, hormones
were removed and taken away…hence the need for a little extra help.
So at age 35, I began taking Premarin.
We played with the doses for a while, until the correct balance was achieved.
And thus began a near 26-year love-hate relationship.
There was, however, that one year when I decided enough was enough and I needed
to purge myself from all that which was non-natural—
and that year became known, by not only myself but by those around me,
as the year from hell…
but I digress.
So last week, given my most recent blood work, my doctor said NO MORE ESTROGEN, ASAP…
as in aka, no more hormones…period, end of sentence.
So is this really the wisest thing to do given the current state of affairs
in our world?
Pandemics.
National civil unrest
The demise of Democracy
A contentious year of an election.
and now…no hormones????
It seems that blood clots have become a factor…thus, it is time.
“Cut the current pills in half for two weeks, then go every other day…
then stop”…so she says.
So… after one day…
the hot flashes revved up, the sleepless nights are now rampant
and the ill mood…well…I think if I go to Portland, the President
will not need to send in the National Gaurd…
cause I’ve got this.
A near 61-year-old woman now without her hormones is truly a force to be reckoned with.
Lying to ourselves is more deeply ingrained than lying to others.
Fyodor Dostoyevsky
(driving into Atlanta from the west / Julie Cook / 2020)
Nearly 40 years ago when I first moved away from home, having taken my first teaching position
in a small city about an hour’s drive west of Atlanta, this was the view that would
herald my return to the city.
This was the view I would see, as I crested the last hill on the interstate before I was near my
home stretch.
It is the view of the city as seen coming in from the west on 285, just before Six Flags.
It is also a view of a city that has only grown in its vista’s expanse over these
past 40 years.
And yet what a deceiving view it is currently.
This particular Sunday morning there were a few popcorn clouds dotting a sweeping blue
summer’s sky coupled with a lighter than average load of traffic—
all of which just might deceive one into thinking that everything was peachy perfect and
right with the world.
But I knew differently.
I was heading over to stay with the Mayor and Sheriff as their mom had some
appointments Monday morning–but I knew that life in Atlanta was not what it seemed
to be from this bucolic meets urban vista as seen from afar on this Sunday morning.
There had been an arrest gone bad over the weekend and once again,
there was someone resisting arrest.
This person made the decision to wrest a taser from an officer then opted to
run away while pointing the taser back at the officers, and thus…
he was shot and killed.
The choices we make can be life-altering, and even life-ending,
yet we don’t seem to grasp the severity of such choices.
Crowds once again gathered overnight, not to simply protest, but opting rather to riot–
shutting down the major downtown interstate and burning a Wendy’s to the ground.
The same Wendy’s that had been the scene of the altercation.
Police were again immediately fired—and thus so much for due process at the workplace.
And the Atlanta police chief, who had just been praised a mere week prior for her
steely approach to Atlanta’s chaos, averting catastrophe, sadly abruptly resigned.
Groups such as the NAACP cried for the white sheriff’s head on a platter.
And so I was driving and the city grew closer with each passing mile,
I wondered what sort of mayhem was now simmering in the city of my birth.
According to news outlets both local and national…Atlanta is a city on edge.
I did not see that during my stay…but then again I was watching during the day
and was not visiting downtown.
It would behoove us to always remember that looks may indeed be decieving…
Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that will he also reap.
For the one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption,
but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life.
Galatians 6:7-8
“The soul is healed by being with children.”
Fyodor Dostoyevsky
(The Mayor rocking her Pandemic can-do spirit / Julie Cook / 2020)
(The Sheriff double thinking life with an older sister / Julie Cook / 2020)
I’ve been back in Atlanta for the last several days.
There was a 6th-year anniversary celebration that required a babysitter.
Then there was a Monday morning doctor’s appointment that also required a sitter…
So while the world has been literally burning down all around me…seething and reeling in
anger and hate…
I got to thinking that it is in the company of children that I now much rather
prefer myself being.
Children are quite apt and exceedingly quick to spot the insincere, the mean, the deceitful,
as well as the unkind.
They see folks as folks—matters not their skin color, their politics, their bank account,
their beliefs…they simply know who is truly truthful, kind, and genuine…
Yep, I think I’ll stick with children.
A much more tender, sweeter, and wiser lot.
Through the praise of children and infants,
you have established a stronghold against your enemies,
to silence the foe and the avenge
Psalm 8:2
From April 12, 2018
(yes, life is that manic…
but I want to wish each of you joy this Easter morn….
Hail thee festival day!! (one of my favorite hymns)
(this is an oldie but a goody)
“Life [had] replaced logic.”
Fyodor Dostoyevsky
(a soon to bloom peony / Julie Cook /2018)
The image of the bloom used in today’s post is that of a peony.
I call this peony my resurrection plant because I bought it two summers ago, in July.
It was a very expensive plant.
Yet anyone living in the deep South knows you don’t sink a lot of money into a
plant, dig a hole in the hot dry ground, plop in said expensive plant and expect it to live…
especially in July and especially in a summer experiencing a full-blown drought.
I wrote about this plant last spring and the reason as to why I call it a resurrection plant—
of which you can read from the following link…
but that is not the true gist of today’s post
Today’s post is a reminder of what the Resurrection is all about…
and if you are a Chrisitan, it’s a reminder of what that exactly means to you.
The reminder rests in the fact that we’ve just celebrated Easter…
Easter being the holiest celebration, besides the birth of Christ, within the Christian Chruch…
Some would argue that it is the sole holiest celebration…but I suppose we can’t have a
resurrection of our Savior without his immaculate conception and birth…
all of which supersedes the ability of man’s small mind to grasp and process…
hence so much of the consternation in mankind since that very first miraculous morning.
After watching the latest edition of Anglican Unscripted featuring our favorite
rouge Anglican Bishop, the Rt. Rev. Gavin Ashenden, I’ve come to realize that
there are many in our fold who really don’t know what they think about
the Ressurection…
And what is even more startling, many members of the clergy don’t quite
know what to make of it either…
In a nutshell, it is the what which separates Christianity from every other religion.
How in the world can you offer anyone, let alone speak of such things as
Hope, Salvation, Grace, if you can’t find the words to say that you believe, without
a doubt, in the Ressurection of Jesus?
You can’t.
Because the Resurrection is the defining key to our faith.
It is the impetus to faith…the belief in that which is a mystery, undefinable,
and greater than oneself.
Without the Resurrection,
Christianity is nothing… nor is it any different from a myriad of other belief systems.
C.S. Lewis explained this very point in 1950
I heard a man say,
“The importance of the Resurrection is that it gives evidence of survival,
evidence that the human personality survives death.”
On that view what happened to Christ would be what had always happened to all men,
the difference being that in Christ’s ease we were privileged to see it happening.
This is certainly not what the earliest Christian writers thought.
Something perfectly new in the history of the Universe had happened.
Christ had defeated death.
The door which had always been locked had for the very first time been forced open.
This is something quite distinct from mere ghost-survival.
I don’t mean that they disbelieved in ghost-survival.
On the contrary, they believed in it so firmly that, on more than one occasion,
Christ had had to assure them that He was not a ghost.
The point is that while believing in survival they yet regarded the Resurrection
as something totally different and new.
The Resurrection narratives are not a picture of survival after death;
they record how a totally new mode of being has arisen in the universe.
Something new had appeared in the universe:
as new as the first coming of organic life.
This Man, after death, does not get divided into “ghost” and “corpse”.
A new mode of being has arisen.
That is the story.
What are we going to make of it?
The question is, I suppose,
whether any hypothesis covers the facts so well as the Christian hypothesis.
That hypothesis is that God has come down into the created universe,
down to manhood—and come up again, pulling it up with Him.
The alternative hypothesis is not legend, nor exaggeration, nor the apparitions of a ghost.
It is either lunacy or lies.
Unless one can take the second alternative (and I can’t) one turns to the Christian theory.
C.S. Lewis,
“What Are We to Make of Jesus Christ?” (1950)
So if you claim to be a Chrisitan and yet find yourself unable to acknowledge the mystery
and the might behind the resurrection of Jesus Christ, you need to rethink your allegiance.
And if you are a member of the clergy and find the words and concept uncomfortable,
you need a new profession because the calling, was not for you….
“Above all, don’t lie to yourself.
The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point
that he cannot distinguish the truth within him, or around him,
and so loses all respect for himself and for others.
And having no respect he ceases to love.”
Fyodor Dostoevsky,
Well, I knew it would be coming…and come it did.
It came yesterday with a new post by our favorite,
formerly from across the pond and now from down under, pastor David Roberston.
David has waded into the proverbial Chicken war.
And no that is not the war between Popeye’s and Chick-fil-A as to who has
the better chicken sandwich…
It is rather the war of words regarding Chick-fil-A and the news over
whether or not the Chicken sandwich giant is distancing themselves from their
Christian charities…
those being The Salvation Army and the Fellowship of Chrisitan of Athletes.
The question raised on this little blog the other day was whether or not the news
was correct in their reporting over such or was Chick-fil-A still very much a contributor
to those particular Christian organizations.
Some say an adamant yes while others continue with their doubts.
Firstly, I should clarify that David is not new to this issue as he wrote a post a
few weeks back regarding the closing of the first Chick-fil-A franchise in the UK—
closing due to the mounting protests of the LGBTQ community as they perceive
the chicken sandwich franchise as being hostile to their varying communities.
That hostility being found in the fact that CFA stands by the Godly principle that
marriage is between one man and one woman–
a Biblical principle that the LBGTQ community finds both repugnant and offensive.
And they will not rest until all businesses and individuals abide by their view
and their view only.
David began yesterday’s post much like I did…
“But this is no joke.
It is an important and revealing issue.
Little did I realise that when I wrote about the intolerance faced by Chick-Fil-A recently –
praising their heroic stance –
that a month later I would be writing about their capitulation to that same intolerance.”
David goes on…
Although Chick-Fil-A have stated that their decision has nothing to do with giving
into political correctness, very few people believe that.
I suppose it could just be a ‘coincidence’ that they have dropped the charities
they have been condemned for supporting, and ended up supporting charities that
their critics endorse – but is it likely? It’s disappointing to watch a Christian company
not only give in to the bullies, but then seek to spin their way out of the criticism.
I wrote David to let him know that a fellow blogger,
whose husband owns and operates a Chick-fil-A here in the states,
wanted to set the record straight and reported that the news outlets had gotten
it all wrong.
David responded that it was not the news agencies who first offered the story but rather
Chick-fil-A itself by announcing their shift in charitable giving—the news merely reported
the story after the fact.
So now we have more confusion.
A conundrum of sorts.
I had later offered up a bit of a retraction to my original post after being informed that
I had perhaps had the wrong information and thus hoped to quell what was now
believed to be misinformation.
I wrote about the issue of truth and false news…but it seems
that we are still searching for the elusive facts.
I personally hope that Chick-fil-A will decide to address this mounting criticism
and questioning by setting the record straight as this issue has now taken
on a global slant.
Hoping to lay low and staying under the radar is comfortable but
we must be mindful and constantly aware that the progressive left is quick to smell
doubt and waffling…they will readily pounce when given any opportunity.
Are we, therefore, willing to take a stand for our Biblical principles or do we prefer to
keep the status quo of safety while choosing the path of least
resistance toward appeasement?
A path that lessens our faith, whittling it away until it is no longer the
faith of the Great I AM but something else entirely?
“Be cunning, and full of tricks,
and your people will never be destroyed.”
Richard Adams, Watership Down
“Love the animals.
God has given them the rudiments of thought and joy untroubled.
Don’t trouble it, don’t harass them, don’t deprive them of their happiness,
don’t work against God’s intent.
Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov”
Richard Adams, Watership Down
We have some neighbors…its a family of 5 and they live outback
someplace behind the house.
We believe there were perhaps 6 or even more, but one of their smallest family
members met a tragic demise…
Our older cat, Peaches, might know something about all of this but we won’t talk
about that today…
Rather we’ll just enjoy those who call our yard their own…
The other day, I went to open the front door and this is who greeted me on the walkway
directly at the bottom of the front porch steps.
(julie cook / 2019)
Next, I went out on the back deck to check on what was cooking on the grill when
something down below caught my eye…
That’s when I spotted him, or is it a her, under my blueberry bushes
(julie Cook / 2019)
Definitely munching on the blueberries…
(julie cook / 2019)
This afternoon I went out front to water my plants when suddenly someone darted
out, right in front of me…
(julie cook / 2019)
That’s when I turned around only to see these two youngsters chasing each other around the yard.
(julie cook / 2019)
Without a vegetable garden these days, I certainly don’t mind our neighbors sharing my yard.
(julie cook / 2019)
Do not plan evil against your neighbor, who dwells trustingly beside you.
Proverbs 3:29
“how anxiously I yearned for those I had forsaken.”
Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Dream of a Ridiculous Man
(crab/ Rosemary Beach / Julie Cook / 2019)
I have always wrestled with the notion of “good-byes”.
I don’t like them.
Never have.
Most likely never will.
There is an odd finality to it all…this business of good-byes…
or so it surely seems at the time of parting.
Perhaps it is the continuity of constancy and consistency that seem threatened
during the action of good-byes.
More times than not, I readily comprehend the cognizant reality–
meaning that my mind is well aware that I will indeed be seeing or be with whomever it is
that might be momentarily leaving my physical presence…
So in some regards, I feel almost silly for getting so worked up or sad.
My brain screams at me, telling me to suck it up, you’ll see them–again– soon–
For crying out loud!
Yet the pain in the spirit, soul, and heart is still very real
as I know that there are those good-byes that are temporary and those that are more permanent.
And it is the permanence of those good-byes that are indeed most bitter…
As all of us will eventually experience such on a very personal level.
I don’t know but I often think adopted folks feel partings perhaps a bit more deeply than others…
I am more than aware of the effects that a mother-to-be has upon her unborn baby in the womb—
There is a transference of emotions, hormones, sounds, senses…even down to the very things
the mother eats or drinks.
Throw in anger, sorrow, stress, fatigue, resentment…
all of that passes through to the one she carries.
A baby who is destined to be “left behind” following its birth…be that for adoption,
knows most pointedly on a deep subconscious level, for a lifetime, the pain of both
rejection and good-byes…
Be they simple, short and fleeting or be they bitter, lasting and full of forever loss…
a good-bye is deeply felt and understood.
And so it was with the parting of our grandchildren today, after having been with them
for the past three days, that my heart was weighed down by the stinging tears
associated with such a parting and loss…
Picking up the left-behind toys and the topsy turvy disarray of a house that only babies
and toddlers bring…
all the while battling with a personal heaviness of heart and stinging tears.
Silly emotions really, but the depth of sudden stillness can be physically unsettling
when just moments before, just before the fully loaded car pulled out of the driveway,
the level of endless energy had been deliriously exhausting as it filled the entire house.
In my particular case of loss, as my brain works tirelessly to tell me, will be blessedly short.
Yet all the while, I know that for others, some good-byes will be sadly lasting and difficult.
So I was reminded of all of this notion of partings and good-byes today when I read
my friend Salvageable’s blog post regarding his missing of a fellow blogger friend.
Often in our lives, our experiences of missing and loss come because of the one we
long for, for whatever reason, opts to move on or perhaps move away…
There comes frustration in such losses because they are really out of our control,
as are most losses—and they come with no real explanation or reasoning.
One day they’re here, the next day they are not.
No words, no contact, no good-bye.
An open-ended loss.
Just as we experience with a death…
equally as difficult and hard to wrap one’s head and heart around…
for there is no control with the loss.
Most often, there is also no opportunity for farewell.
Either way, the after effects affect our whole being.
I offered my empathy to Salvageable as I expressed just how much I’ve missed my blogging
friend Natalie.
Much the same way that I miss my aunt.
Both became sick and yet I never saw either one of them during their illness.
In Natalie’s case, we had never met face to face.
One minute, we spoke over the phone, then there’s an illness that occurred, and then poof,
they were gone.
Just the other day, my daughter-n-law and I both lamented how much we missed “Aunt Maaaaaathhaaa”
It’s just weird that she’s no longer a physical part of our family.
We spoke on the phone on a Tuesday evening as I shared that she was to soon be a great aunt.
I had no visible bearing as to how sick she was as we chatted about my becoming a grandmother.
Her voice raspy but her mind was focused as she talked about getting some strength back.
A day later… on Wednesday, she was gone.
Similar to my friend Natalie, but our’s was communication via texts and emails while she was
in the hospital.
I told her that I was going to fly out to see her…a day later her daughter actually text back
that her mom was in ICU and for me to wait.
Four day’s later she was gone.
I liked what Salvageable had to say in his post about there being a designated place in Heaven for
Wordpress bloggers to finally meet…because there are so many of you I love dearly,
yet we have never sat together at a kitchen table and shared a face to face laugh or tear.
And such is this life of ours…perhaps it’s akin to being something like pen-pals.
One day, for whatever reason, the letters just stop coming.
Leaving us to always wonder as to what happened.
Yet thankfully there is a takeaway in all of this melancholy chatter and that is actually
the of good news in all of this heaviness.
For it is here, where many of us join and come together, that we are brought together
by our shared love for Jesus Christ.
Even those who come here to counter our words and our posts…those ardent disbelievers and atheists
who come to argue, fuss, cuss and discuss our seemingly “disillusionment”–
all come because of Jesus.
And for those of us who believe, it is that love of Jesus that sustains all of our losses,
be they great or small, temporary or seemingly neverending.
Therein resides our Hope and our Grace.
For those of you who come to fuss, cuss, discuss or for those who come simply with their loss and sorrow…
blessedly and thankfully, we all have Hope.
For He is indeed the great I AM…
‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes.
There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain,
for the old order of things has passed away.”
Revelation 21:4
My heart was so grieved last night when I finally crawled into the bed—
I had thought I’d read a bit but then thought better of such a notion and opted
to just turn out the lights.
Sorrowfully, I blankly stared out into the darkness until finally squeezing my eyes shut.
The words, ‘Third Term Abortions’, swirled in my brain.
Abortion is horrific.
And yet we now have those who wish to make it even more horrific…if such was possible.
We have been greeted with the news this week of those who now callously think that a live birth,
a living, brand new baby should be allowed to simply be left to die—
that that child may not be allowed to live, to thrive, to grow, to love, and to be loved…
it was, it is, more than my heart could or can bear.
What world do I live in?
What nation is this?
What century is this?
Educated we brag.
Highly evolved we boast.
Egotistical we are.
Humble we are not.
I found my mind imploring…
Please God, do not turn your back to us.
Please do not leave us..
Do not leave us to this…
But this is what I know…God will leave man to his own devices.
The wrath of God is being revealed from heaven against all the godlessness and wickedness of people,
who suppress the truth by their wickedness, since what may be known about God is plain to them,
because God has made it plain to them.
For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have
been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.
For although they knew God, they neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him,
but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened.
Although they claimed to be wise, they became fools and exchanged the glory of the immortal God
for images made to look like a mortal human being and birds and animals and reptiles.
Therefore God gave them over in the sinful desires of their hearts to sexual impurity for the degrading
of their bodies with one another.
They exchanged the truth about God for a lie,
and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator—who is forever praised.
Amen.
Because of this, God gave them over to shameful lusts.
Even their women exchanged natural sexual relations for unnatural ones.
In the same way the men also abandoned natural relations with women and were inflamed with lust for one another.
Men committed shameful acts with other men, and received in themselves the due penalty for their error.
Furthermore, just as they did not think it worthwhile to retain the knowledge of God,
so God gave them over to a depraved mind, so that they do what ought not to be done.
They have become filled with every kind of wickedness, evil, greed and depravity.
They are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit and malice.
They are gossips, slanderers, God-haters, insolent, arrogant and boastful;
they invent ways of doing evil; they disobey their parents;
they have no understanding, no fidelity, no love, no mercy.
Although they know God’s righteous decree that those who do such things deserve death,
they not only continue to do these very things but also approve of those who practice them.
Romans 1:18-32
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