Sometimes I don't realize how much I miss something until I suddenly have it again. It's been a really long time since I've had fun, relaxed, consistent time with friends who love me, know me well and are headed in the same "life direction". The last 3 or 4 years of my life have been so scattered. Indonesia, Uganda, Dubai, Nashville, New Orleans, Dallas - wonderful experiences, hard experiences; some I would relive; others I wouldn't.
Needless to say, so many places in such a short period of time make it difficult to establish friendships that have time to develop into close, long lasting relationships. Most of my close friends (not to mention family) live far away. Talking to them is a huge blessing; seeing them is a relatively rare event. I've learned to defend myself - to build walls around my heart and mind - if only to continue every day life without fearing a constant, lonely emotional crisis.
Lately, I've been able to spend alot of time with some very dear friends that I have known for forever, have been roommates with, who know and love my family, and who challenge me to love God and people in a deeper way. I don't have to explain my fears, hopes, dreams or faults to them. They already know them because these friendships were built a long time ago.
So, here's to the POC crowd! Thanks for engulfing me again. I can't even begin to explain what an answer to prayer y'all are. Sometimes God comes when we least expect it, and sometimes He graciously heals wounds that we forget even hurt because we have lived with them for so long. It is both frightening and relieving to have somewhere to go where my walls are no longer needed.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Redemption
Redeem is an action verb. It means "to restore the honor of". It is a giving back of that which is no longer deserved. The guilty can never be the source of their own redemption.
When the redeemed is guilty, it is impossible to separate redemption from grace. Honor cannot be restored to the guilty without the all-encompassing grace of the Redeemer.
When the redeemed is guilty, it is impossible to separate redemption from grace. Honor cannot be restored to the guilty without the all-encompassing grace of the Redeemer.
Missing You....
Daddy, I Remember
Daddy, I remember....
I remember your laugh and your smile, the twinkle in your eye.
I remember you coming home, so handsome in your uniform.
I remember running into your arms, yelling "DADDY!"
.....or do I just imagine?
Daddy, I remember....
I remember "Mommy's Day Out" and green eggs and ham.
I remember faces made of hot dogs and ketchup with spinach hair.
I remember magic shows where balloons had needles through them and bread could be
made with baby powder.
.....or do I just imagine?
Daddy, I remember....
I remember lining up behind you to yell "Christmas Eve Gift" when Nana opened the door.
I remember you and Mommy helping me ask Jesus to come into my heart.
I remember what your face looked like when you walked in the front door the day of your
surprise birthday party.
......or do I just imagine?
Daddy, I remember....
I remember you holding me when I was tired.
I remember you painting our faces like clowns and letting us wave at cars as
they went by.
I remember building our snowman that had a pair of underwear for a hat.
I remember you going outside to get big bowls of snow so that we could
have snow ice cream.
.....or do I just imagine?
Daddy, I remember....
I remember you chasing Mommy as she went screaming through the house.
I remember you catching her and tickling her until she laughed so hard she cried.
I remember you tilting her back in your arms and kissing her while we kids
clapped and cheered.
.....or do I just imagine?
Your laugh, your smile, the twinkle in your eye,
Daddy, I remember.
Some hurts, some grief, never go away. It changes; it matures, but somewhere inside, there is always the five year old little girl, aching because, one night, her Daddy never made it home.
Daddy, I remember....
I remember your laugh and your smile, the twinkle in your eye.
I remember you coming home, so handsome in your uniform.
I remember running into your arms, yelling "DADDY!"
.....or do I just imagine?
Daddy, I remember....
I remember "Mommy's Day Out" and green eggs and ham.
I remember faces made of hot dogs and ketchup with spinach hair.
I remember magic shows where balloons had needles through them and bread could be
made with baby powder.
.....or do I just imagine?
Daddy, I remember....
I remember lining up behind you to yell "Christmas Eve Gift" when Nana opened the door.
I remember you and Mommy helping me ask Jesus to come into my heart.
I remember what your face looked like when you walked in the front door the day of your
surprise birthday party.
......or do I just imagine?
Daddy, I remember....
I remember you holding me when I was tired.
I remember you painting our faces like clowns and letting us wave at cars as
they went by.
I remember building our snowman that had a pair of underwear for a hat.
I remember you going outside to get big bowls of snow so that we could
have snow ice cream.
.....or do I just imagine?
Daddy, I remember....
I remember you chasing Mommy as she went screaming through the house.
I remember you catching her and tickling her until she laughed so hard she cried.
I remember you tilting her back in your arms and kissing her while we kids
clapped and cheered.
.....or do I just imagine?
Your laugh, your smile, the twinkle in your eye,
Daddy, I remember.
Some hurts, some grief, never go away. It changes; it matures, but somewhere inside, there is always the five year old little girl, aching because, one night, her Daddy never made it home.
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