A Soft Gentle Voice: Beauty

Showing posts with label Beauty. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

We Sing of His Steadfast Love that Endures Forever ~ Words of Life Wednesdays ~ A Link-up

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{Also linking with Coffee For Your Heart}

“Only let each person lead the life
that the Lord has assigned to him,

and to which God has called him.”

{1 Corinthinans 7:17}

To put it frankly, this is not the life I would have chosen for myself.

Is anyone really comfortable in the skin they are in? Can one truly be content in circumstances beyond control?

We are a people who like to take control? But we lose our footing and our faith is so small. And we realize we never really had much say in it all anyway.

The boy growing up without a father. The widow grieving her beloved taken much too early. The wife waking up to a nightmare of a trial she never would have ever dreamed. The husband holding on to hope when all appears to be hopeless. The mother who weeps for her child swollen with malnutrition. The loved one’s lives ended because planes are shot down.

This world wreaks havoc in our lives. We are the fallen people and we keep on falling.

We pack up clothes and kids like a can of sardines and drive to the Island with red-ribbon roads lined with pink and purple lupins and yellow buttercups, and the sapphire-blue ocean to celebrate life and to get a way from all of life’s uncertainties.

For forty years he’s been a wanderer in this world not his home, and no one can be sure of her days, so we mean to celebrate every moment to the fullest. We watch the tides and we dig for treasures, but there is no getting away from tragedy, and heartache, and loss, and death.

Not in this world.

But there is something greater.

We sing of it as we the wheels roll on and the kilometres click away and we get closer to the ocean.

Cause in this life, the one that I would not have chosen, really when I stop to consider all the good things God has graciously given, how can I not sing His praise.

“Oh, You’re rich in love and you’re slow to anger,

Your name is great and your heart is kind,

For all your goodness I will keep on singing.

Ten thousand reasons for my heart to find.
The fallen ones who became the chosen ones who had faith in the One whose love never fails, they sang of it.

Of His goodness. His great wonders. In creation. In protection. In deliverance. And redemption.

Over and over they sing; giving thanks.

For His steadfast love endures forever.

The Good Shepherd leads us to quiet waters. He tends us lovingly. We stand in the setting sun and we see it all as grace upon grace. We wonder at His creation and we marvel at His goodness. We slow down and sing loud and stop to pick lupins and search for sea glass.

We open the window to the sea and open our eyes to really see.

Life ebbs and flows, tides of life rise and fall, eroding away hope, pulling down, but His love is as constant as the waves as it washes over me.

He is supreme over all and His steadfast love, His mercy never ends.

I don’t know why I have been given this life where I can sit before still waters and many mourn their loved ones shot down from the sky.

I can’t make sense of people dying from cancer and bombs, and babies crying from aching bellies and mother’s with broken hearts.

But this I know with all my heart.

The steadfast love of the Lord endures forever.

To Him I will give thanks with all the worshiping congregation. For He is good.

This is my ultimate purpose: that I would proclaim His excellencies.

It is the same as His ultimate goal: that His people would declare His praise.

Life may not always make sense, but this is how I always need to see it.

The life that I never would have chosen, but it is the one He has chosen for me.

In suffering we can endure and do good, we can follow in His steps because He is good and His steadfast love endures. {1 Peter 2:21}

To this we have been called.

And by His grace, for all eternity we will never stop singing this same song over and over and over.

Of His steadfast love that endures forever.

“Still my soul will sing your praise unending.

Ten thousand years and forevermore.”

An InLinkz Link-up

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Pathway of Sorrow Leads to Stronger Faith {Words of Life Wednesdays ~ A Link-up}

{Join us below for Words of Life Wednesdays with a link-up of your post.

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"In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honour at the revelation of Jesus Christ." {1 Peter 1:6-7}

The old empty flower pot sits in the corner. Mostly forgotten. From where it came, I am not sure. It has a story of it's own, with the lines etched in and the bark worn away, but I only know a small part of it's past. Some creative person saw beauty in all the broken pieces and fashioned together something useful. Crafted beauty from all the ugly parts.

***

I know what it is to sit empty and feel forgotten. I know the pain of broken pieces and ugly parts.

You, too?

***

Suffering.

Grief.

Various trials.

Trouble.

Laid aside.

In sorrow

or pain

or sickness

or grief.

It may seem like there is no end.

You may feel you have been made for more than this.

Rest.

We are all but a vapour.

These difficulties will last a little while.

Rejoice.

Give thanks that this heaviness might be used to grow your faith into something far more precious than gold.

See that the pathway of sorrow leads to a stronger faith.

Results are of eternal value.

Allow this suffering to purify and burn away the dross and see what beauty remains.

May your genuine faith be found to result in praise, glory and honour to the One who suffered beyond any suffering we could even imagine.

“The way to stronger faith usually lies along the rough pathway of sorrow . . . I am afraid that all the grace that I have got out of my comfortable and easy times and happy hours, might almost lie on a penny. But the good that I have received from my sorrows, and pains, and griefs, is altogether incalculable . . . Affliction is the best bit of furniture in my house. It is the best book in a minister’s library. ” {Charles Spurgeon}

I know He will take the painful parts and purify them into beautiful praise.

***

May our suffering grow a stronger faith.

May our pain be found to bring praise.

May our hard times result in honour for all eternity

to the Lamb who was slain

as His scars remain.

***

{Email subscribers can click here to listen to "Pieces" by Meredith Andrews}

***

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{Also linking with Coffee For Your Heart}

An InLinkz Link-up

Monday, January 20, 2014

The Golden Axe Will Eventually Lose its Lustre BUT The Golden Rule Will Eternally Shine {Meditation of My Heart Mondays}

“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}

These days most would say brains over brawn.

But, when it comes right down to the heart of the matter there is something even better: a man that is committed to living out the sum of all that is written in the Scriptures. In a nutshell, a man that whole-heartedly loves God and his neighbour. This man knows his duty is to live according to the royal law, the law of love.

Twenty-five years ago, or maybe closer to thirty, there was a single woman raising her children on her own. I have no other details. I don't know why she was single. Perhaps she was grieving the loss of her husband or experiencing guilt or shame for life choices she had made.

I don't know how she managed to care for her children, or if she was even able to feed them nutritious meals. I wonder how she survived her days if money was tight or how she braved her nights when dreams were tormenting. I don't know if Loneliness was her lousy companion, or if she chose to rise above her circumstances, but I hope she lived believing she was called Beloved.

I could act as a good reporter and dig up all the lurid details, or write up a sensational story about this woman's life, but it's not the specifics that make this particular story so heart-wrenchingly beautiful. This story is not about the status of a person, rather it's the way some people loved with hearts that beat in time to the King of love.

All I know is that she needed help. She needed fire-wood to keep her children and her own self warm one cold Canadian winter. And there was a small group of men and women who had a deep desire to pour out God's love by helping those in need in their little backwoods community. They knew the importance of treating their neighbour just as they themselves would desire to be treated.

Men and women who met together to pray and sing praise to their Saviour, break bread at the Lord's Supper, and listen to the teaching of Biblical truths every week, also met together one winter's day in the bush. They hauled axes over their shoulders, tromped deep into the wood, and with all their heart and all their strength, cut right through logs. Men of dust, bent their knees down low, did back-breaking humble work with their feet planted firmly on the forest humus, and split wood for a woman.

The man who owned the bush, I've been told, was a quiet man, so he may not have had words to offer, but he gave what he had.

The man of few words gave his wood.

It started an annual tradition and it became known as the "Bush Party".

Years later, however, it didn't seem appropriate to call an annual church gathering a 'bush party' so it was re-named. In 2014, at the event now called the "Snow Ball", wood-splitting was brought back in the form of a good old-fashioned competition. After roasting hot dogs on an open fire, axes fell on ash logs, and the champion was determined by the man who split his log into six pieces with the least number of swings. Crack after crack, the excitement in the competition grew, and laughter and cheers echoed off still standing trees.

A golden axe was presented to the champ who had split his log with 5 strategic arches of the axe, cutting through the air and chopping that frozen log into firewood.

I have a feeling that this first annual wood-splitting contest won't be remembered in another thirty years in quite the same way as that year almost three decades ago when love was shown to a neighbour in the splitting and sharing of wood.

Yes, of course, it may be a small honour to have your name on a golden axe, but it's of great value to live out what has come to be known as the golden rule of Christ.

Not all of us will handle an axe, or have wood to give away, but "whatever you want people to do for you, do the same for them."

Next year, I hear, there will be more logs ready for another competition, and another name added to the golden axe. Perhaps another generation of men and women who meet together on Sundays and desire to live the golden rule, will gather in the same bush and split wood for another neighbour in need.

For when we live our days according to the Golden Rule of the King of Love the Light shines on in the darkest night.

"In Him was life, and the life was the Light of men."

How are you living our the Golden Rule of Christ?

In what ways has your heart been stirred to love your neighbour as yourself?

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Our Marks Behind the Scenes

It was a quiet moment on Christmas day and one of the sweetest candid shots I snapped all day.

We had gathered around warm, gooey cinnamon rolls, feasted on the rich promising words of the Incarnation, unwrapped more than glittering presents, but His glorious presence in our lives, and pulled up our sleeves to prepare a banquet.

Now the turkey was sizzling, the smell whirling its way throughout the house, the light dinner rolls were waiting on the counter, and the golden apple pie dripping sweet juice was tempting me to make it the first course.

In the momentary hush, after the excitement of the morning and before my sister and her husband with their five boys, including twin five-month old babies, who had been without power for days due to an ice storm (Yes, I agree, they deserve more than a medal!!) would join us, I listened as my Mother-in-law shared a precious moment with one of her granddaughters.

I could hear the story of 'Audrey Bunny' unravel as she turned the pages and the bunny with a mark became real.

Real.

Because this is my story too.

It's not just the little girls who are afraid to show their marks, or fear that their marks may be seen after all their try-hard living to keep their imperfections from being seen.

From grandmothers to little girls, we all have marks that we are scared to reveal.

But in the right hands, we will come to see that no matter our mark, we are loved, and we are fearfully and wonderfully made.

"I am the LORD; I have called you in righteousness;

I will take you by the hand and keep you."

{Isaiah 42:6}

Linking with Behind the Scenes

Monday, November 4, 2013

More of Him Who is Stronger {#Morevember}

"Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth!
Serve the Lord with gladness!

Come into his presence with singing!

Know that the Lord, he is God!

It is he who made us, and we are his;

we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.

Enter his gates with thanksgiving,

and his courts with praise!

Give thanks to him; bless his name!

For the Lord is good;

his steadfast love endures forever,

and his faithfulness to all generations."

(Psalm 100)

For days I wake with the feeling of knives cutting my throat. Each morning that I stir and the jabbing pain persists, the weariness increases. I carry on as best as I can.

But Sunday morning, when the daylight savings has ended and we've fallen back in time, I wonder if I should just stay home and rest.

While I linger in bed a morning to myself seems tempting. I think of the promised quiet.

My husband brings me a glass of orange juice and lovingly informs me the coffee is ready, but only after I drink my o.j. My taste buds are off and I don't even desire a cup of coffee but I gulp down the orange.

And I get up and dressed for church.

There's been tormenting winds and biting words. The noise of this house has not been all that joyful. And as much as I disciple these children of mine in our home on speaking words of respect to one another, I need to keep hold of my own tongue that threatens to whip words that burn, and refuses to be tamed.

The constant battle leaves the warrior desperate for hope. We are just broken ones clinging to the cross.

I'm weak and weary and worn, but I need the communion.

So I come out for breakfast and join my family. Rest can come later.

I need the community, the fellowship, the singing, the breaking of the bread, the prayers, the teaching and exhortation.

We roll in just in time, or as some may consider late. We find five seats and plop our Bibles and bags down around us. And I'm sure I've frustrated my husband for making us 'just in time', but he graciously never bothers to mention it. His heart has been preparing to share with the believers of how Jesus is the only One we need.

We remain standing to sing. I'm no singer on the best of days, and I'm cutting in and out, singing bass, a few octaves lower than my normal mezzo-soprano. But these words beg to be sung. And at the chorus, I break, and raise my raspy voice.

There is love that came for us

Humbled to a sinner’s cross

You broke my shame and sinfulness

You rose again victorious

Faithfulness none can deny

Through the storm and through the fire

There is truth that sets me free

Jesus Christ who lives in me

You are stronger, You are stronger

Sin is broken, You have saved me

It is written, Christ is risen

Jesus You are Lord of all

No beginning and no end

You’re my hope and my defense

You came to seek and save the lost

You paid it all upon the cross

There's my hope. More of Him.

Of Him who is Stronger.

When I was nothing but a sinner.

When the storms of life rage.

When I am weak.

When I have no hope.

More of Jesus Christ who lives in me.

My hope set on the living God, who is my Saviour.

His mercies are new every morning and His goodness never ends.

His grace unfolds and in the joy of the Lord, He gives strength.

"The covenant of grace set down in the Scriptures of the Old and New Testament, with so many rich promises, to strengthen the faith of every weak

believer, makes the matter of God's praise and of his people's joy so sure, that how sad so ever our spirits may be when we look to ourselves, yet we shall have reason to praise the Lord when we look to his goodness and mercy, and to what he has said in his word for our comfort."

~ Matthew Henry

***

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Intentional Motherhood: Longing for Beauty

The timing is impeccable. I am pondering words to offer up for this post when she descends down the stairs looking for me. She is so quiet I don't even hear her until the doorway frames her little frame. She stands there and says nothing; the twinkle in her eyes says it all.

She's all dressed up with a long flowing blue dress and stickers on her ears for sparkly earrings. Blonde wisps frame her face; some gathered up, but spilling down. The hand-me-down necklace from long ago that looks like diamonds drapes radiance about her neck.

She holds the folds of the dress in her hands and stands there in her splendor and looks up with her sweet face and lifts one hand and uses the back of it to wipe the falling tresses out of her eyes that match her attire.

I'm breathless with the beauty of my little one and I stoop down and I look right in her eyes. I tell her she's beautiful. I tell her she's loved.

Finally she begs the question, "You like it?" She's three and she looking for approval. She didn't even need to ask. I gather her in my arms and tell her again, over and over, that she is beautiful and she is lovely and she is loved!

She skips off, delighting, dancing with a calm and graceful assurance.

***

Read more at Finding Heaven, where I am sharing as a guest writer today. Won’t you join me as we seek true beauty? I'd be honored!

Related:
True Beauty ~ Does it Actually Exist?
Being Transformed

{Although this is not from the book, Raising Your Children for Christ, it still very much fits into Intentional Motherhood, so I am keeping it a part of this series.}

Monday, February 25, 2013

True Beauty ~ Does it Actually Exist?

I'm sitting in the La-Z-Boy rocking chair, the one by the window overlooking the backyard. It's where I come to read, to snuggle, to think, to take a break with a warm cup in my hand, to talk on the phone.

My sister is pleading with me and I'm not really rocking, I'm leaning forward, my elbows on my knees with the phone at my ear. She is begging me to start looking at myself differently. She tells me I must. As though my life depends on it.

That when I look in the mirror I need to see that I am beautiful. I just don't see it.

When you are half-way through your thirties and all of your womanhood life you have seen yourself as less-than, how on earth are you just supposed to start seeing yourself in a different light?

I don't see beauty when my own reflection is staring back at me.

When I say that outloud, see it in black and white, I see how dreadfully wrong I am. But, how do you correct a mistake that you have made so often it is ingrained; a habit; a tangled web; a lie that destroys?

In this world so caught up in size and proportion and perfection, airbrushing and glamour and flawlessness what do you do when you simply don't measure up, when you may or may not be a size 2 and your measurements are way out of proportion and your glitter is not all that glamourous and all you see are your flaws and lack of perfection?

I am not naive enough to think this is only my problem.

For some reason we are reaching for an ideal that doesn't even exist as though we could actually gather gold at the end of the rainbow. But we always come up empty handed.

"Christina Kelly, who has been the successful editor of Elle Girl, YM, Jane, and Sassy, wrote a confessional article about the process of the female magazine industry:

Why do we crave celebrities? Here’s my theory. To be human is to feel inconsequential. So we worship celebrities and seek to look like them. All the great things they have done we identify with in order to escape our own inconsequential lives. But it’s so dumb. With this stream of perfectly airbrushed, implanted, liposuctioned stars, you would have to be an absolute powerhouse of self-esteem already not to feel totally inferior before them. So we worship them because we feel inconsequential, but doing it makes us feel even worse. We make them stars, but then their fame makes us feel insignificant. I am part of this whole process as an editor. No wonder I feel soiled at the end of the day." ('King's Cross', Timothy Keller)

Unless we come to terms with who we truly are and how we have been created and chosen we will struggle with true beauty.

True beauty comes from within; from a heart that is humbled and at peace; a spirit that is at rest with its Creator; a soul that has been restored.

No amount of make-up can effectively remove a miserable scowl, no adorning of costly apparel will cause us to be anymore precious, and no amount of airbrushing can make a heart at peace.

But I can look into a mirror and say I'm beautiful because I have been created in the image of One who is 'altogether lovely' and although that likeness has been distorted because of sin, it is being restored by grace and I am being made ~ being re-created ~ to be 'more and more like him as we are changed into his glorious image' and he has 'clothed me with the garments of salvation; he has covered me with the robe of righteousness,'

Oh, I see my flaws and it is hard to see the beauty, but I will not let the world define beauty for me any longer. I will accept myself for what and whose I am ~ a masterpiece of God.

*****
Linking up here at Emily's, Jen's and Jennifer's

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