I’m listening to Robin Mark’s Year of Grace. It’s one of my favorite albums. Love it, love it, love it! It brings back memories of driving out to the valley to visit my friend Michelle, ’cause I usually brought the CD with me to listen on the way out. I miss those drives, the rolling hills and orchards and cows, and of course, Michelle. Anyway, that’s not really why I like the CD, but it’s a nice bonus. :)
The song of His glorious returning rises up on the wings of the dawn...
His coming. Heaven. Where no one will get sick, there will be no more goodbyes, we won’t sin, we won’t have trouble getting along, and there will be no cockroaches or mosquitoes or dust or poverty or hunger.
“I guess some people might think Heaven is just some sort of a cop-out,” I said to Mom the other week. Some sort of escape we can dream about when we don’t feel like dealing with the difficulties of this life. Her reply: “But Heaven is supposed to be our hope. And if the things we face here make us more eager for our true home, that’s a good thing.”
- - -
All my changes come from Him, He who never changes
I’m held firm in the grasp of the Rock of all the ages…
Sometimes when I
think back over all the changes in the last several years, I get a little
dizzy. Four years ago, I was one
California girl smack dab in the middle of what felt like a wintery
nowhere. I was idealistic and perhaps a
bit naïve. If you had told me what the
next four years would hold, I’d have laughed at you. Or freaked out and run the other way.
Last Friday’s
six-month mark has left me somewhat reflective, I suppose. (One of my reflections being that six months
must be about half an eternity.)
The other evening I
visited someone in another part of the city.
We were driving down the street, and it hit me, “I haven’t been down
here since I was at Dan and Sharon’s [the family I stayed with for the first
few weeks after I arrived]!” And all the
memories of those first few weeks came flooding back. Was that really six months ago?! So much has happened since then.
All is well with my soul
He is God in control
I know not all His plans but I know I’m in His hands…
All is well with my
soul. All. is. well. Even when it doesn’t feel well.
Yes, I have friends
here and I’m learning and I can get cheese after all. But there are times when all I can see is my
not-enough-ness and not-in-control-ness.
There’s a reason
Matthew 14:27-33 is underlined in my Bible. :)
And of all the thousand lessons that
could be learned from that story, the one I most cling to now is this: My God
may not instantly calm the storm, but He will reach out His hand and keep me
from sinking.
I am persuaded
neither death nor life
Nor powers on
earth or in the realms above
Can ever take us
from Your hand O God
Can ever separate
us from Your love…
And there’s another promise.
- - -
I feel like French sessions are going
reasonably well. I’ve figured out some
things that work well, my helper and I can chat and laugh, I’m meeting my goal
of new words per hour. Most of all, I
pretty much know what’s going to happen in a session – because I’m the one who
plans them.
Real life? Not so much.
It’s more frustrating and stressful and
I always sound way dumber.
And that’s another reason I’m so
grateful for grace. That God’s love for
me has nothing to do with performance or measuring up.
On love unbound I
fix my gaze
Where I first saw
You in the year of grace…
And here’s where we’ll end.
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