Thankful

 

Thanksgiving is simplicity at its finest. Give thanks. The question to consider is To Whom am I giving thanks?

I'm a simple girl, so my answer is simple too.

Thank You, Father God, for the list of people, things, events, and memories for which I am profoundly grateful. For my coffee this morning, the gentle snowfall, to my family who are all safe and ensconced in warmth and hope, to thoughts of my parents and their love, their smiles, the food they enjoyed, and their place in our personal history.

Most of all, I thank You for your companionship. You never groan when I repeat myself, tire of my mistakes, or forget what I've told You. You are my Always Enough, Straight Up Enough and More Than Enough. I am not always thankful, but You already know that. Thank You...

The Sound of Our Breathing

I am blown away by this post from an artist named Jason Gray eight years ago but was only brought to my attention this morning. I have not posted for a number of years, but this is entirely postworthy.

The Sound of Our Breathing
Take a breath and breathe it out.  Do it again, slowly, and try to mean it.

Breathing – of all things maybe we take it most for granted. Do we ever wonder why we are built this way, this soft machine of ours always pumping oxygen in and out?

In sadness, we breathe heavy sighs. In joy, our lungs feel almost like they will burst. In fear we hold our breath and have to be told to breathe slowly to help us calm down. When we’re about to do something hard, we take a deep breath to find our courage.  When I think about it, breathing looks almost like a kind of praying.

I heard a teaching not long ago about the moment when Moses had the nerve to ask God what his name is.  God was gracious enough to answer, and the name he gave is recorded in the original Hebrew as YHWH.

Over time we’ve arbitrarily added an “a” and an “e” in there to get YaHWeH, presumably because we have a preference for vowels. But scholars have noted that the letters YHWH represent breathing sounds, aspirated consonants that in the Hebrew alphabet would be transliterated like this:

Yod, rhymes with “rode”, which we transliterate “Y”

He, rhymes with “say”, which we transliterate “H”

Vav, like “lava”, which we transliterate “V” or “W”

He rhymes with “say”, which we transliterate “H”

A wonderful question rises to excite the imagination: what if the name of God is the sound of breathing?

This is a beautiful thought to me, especially considering that for centuries there have been those who have insisted that the name of God is so holy that we dare not speak it because of how unworthy we are. How generous of God to choose to give himself a name that we can’t help but speak every moment we’re alive. All of us, always, everywhere, waking, sleeping, with the name of God on our lips.

In his Nooma video, Breathe, Rob Bell (a pastor whose obvious gifts of curiosity and a knack for asking provocative questions can get him into trouble) wonders what this means in key moments like when a baby is born – newly arrived on planet earth, must they take their first breath, or rather speak the name of God if they are to be alive here?  On our deathbed, do we breathe our last breath? Or is it that we cease to be alive when the name of God is no longer on our lips?

The most ironic of his questions is also the most beautiful: he wonders about the moment when an atheist friend looks across the table at you and says, “there. is. no. God”.  And of course what you hear is “Yod. He. Vav. He.”

There are few better illustrations of both God’s largesse as well as his humility, his omnipresence as well as his singular intimate presence within each of us.

Breathe in. Breathe out. “He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs… the word that saves is right here, as near as the tongue in your mouth…” (Romans 8:28, 10:8 The Message)

The Sound of Our Breathing - Jason Gray, Doug McKelvey, Seth Mosely

Everybody draws their very first breath with Your name upon their lips

Every one of us is born of dust but come alive with heaven’s kiss

The name of God is the sound of our breathing

Hallelujahs rise on the wings of our hearts beating

Breathe in, breathe out, speak it aloud Oh oh, oh oh

The glory surrounds, this is the sound Oh oh, oh oh

Moses' bare foot at the burning bush, wants to know who spoke to him

The answer is unspeakable like the rush of a gentle wind

The name of God is the sound of our breathing

Hallelujahs rise on the wings of our hearts beating

Breathe in, breathe out, speak it aloud Oh oh, oh oh

The glory surrounds, this is the sound Oh oh, oh oh

In him we live and move and have our being

We speak the name as long as we are breathing

So breathe in

Breathe out…

Doubters and deceivers, skeptics and believers we speak it just the same

From birth to death, every single breath is whispering Your name

More Than Enough

This is a perfectly timed find. Especially the first half.

I have to amend the end to "He is enough" though. I am nothing apart from Him. Because He is my MoreThanEnough, it's all good. It is all very good.

Heart For God. Read your title again, author lady...

HEART FOR GOD
Study of 1 Samuel by Myrna Alexander

I missed the first week when I was with Mom at her house, but I made it to the second lesson last Thursday. So far, I think I may have succeeded in offending one or more ladies with my burst of opinion.

Split into our small groups to lay out our "discoveries", I said that I thought the fifth suggestion for leaders [page 13] was really dumb, because it says, “only those who have finished the week’s assignment may share in the discussion”. A lady I truly love then tapped me on the shoulder and said, “But that’s what we do here. If people participate who haven’t done the study, that wouldn’t be fair.”

I was dumbfounded. Fair? Are you kidding me? What are we, in second grade? When the time comes that I step in for the lady who now facilitates, I cannot punish an adult by telling her she can’t participate, because she didn’t answer the questions others did. For one thing, she may already be acquainted with the direction in which the topic is headed and have something pithy to contribute. Secondly, I have received from Him SO MANY times through people who may not have “finished the week’s assignment”, but sure as nails, know His heart a whole lot more intimately than I do, and THAT is priceless.

So I will be voted off the island of “fair”. I will take a comment any day from someone who’s spent time at His feet over someone who answered a few questions posed by an author who shows me her ignorance of Jesus’ Fatherheart-centered intentions by excluding anyone from a discussion. I can't imagine Him disqualifying someone from participation because she couldn't or didn't have the lesson done. I don't get the impression the disciples spent much time on homework they could have been doing. They simply spent time being with Him.

Shouldn't the bottom line of ANY Bible study be to delve more deeply into His heart? The author defies the very title of her book with this exclusive suggestion. Help me--I need compassion.

How sad are we, Your Church, when we care more about our rules than about what truly pleases You… Lord, help us.

The B-Man

It's hard to believe this tiny dreamboat has become such a central thought, focus, and heartthrob not just to the two of us, but to the whole Mulligan clan. He is the first grandson, great-grandson, nephew, and great-nephew on our side of the family, so he is the premiere cuddle/fun/interest factor to all of us.

For Kev and me, we no longer go to Rymy's house. We go to Bridger's house. When they're going to come up for a visit, the Bridgers are coming. He is only nine months old and can't even walk or talk yet, but already he has changed our world and our words!

His bents are already prophesied, at least in my mind, based on those of his parents and the things we have discerned thus far. He will have a quick wit, a penchant for the arts and the finer classes of food and material goods, own a gift for sizing people up (he is a natural observer), and ultimately and most importantly, he will love Jesus. May he excel at that far beyond all that we could ask or imagine.

My Kevin has always treated me with greater respect and consideration than anyone else. He declared that to be a goal before we got married. He said people do the opposite all the time, and not only do they have it backwards, but it's something he simply wants to do. And he does it like a boss. Well, that said, this little guy has a huge chunk o'land like that in this guy's heart. He will drive across town (no small feat), use up one of his extremely valuable days off, and magically turn into a little boy himself just to spend time with this incredibly wonderful baby boy. And I sure don't mind that I always get to come too!

Lord, You have blessed us with three, then five, fabulously fine children. Now You have gifted us with entry into the grandparents club. At each stage of life You gift us with new and wondrous experiences, all of them infused with the fragrance of Your unique brand of fun, love, marvel, creativity, imagination, and sparkle. This is a really, REALLY great kingdom, and we are loving every single minute of it. Bring it on, Lord, and keep showing us greater and deeper ways that You love!

Forgiveness

This knocks it out of the park.

Bumper Sticker

Occasionally, bumper sticker philosophy makes its way into my thoughts. I thought of a line while I was on a little hike today to spread old squash and croutons for the deer and turkeys:  “Jesus had a job.”

There was no welfare system in His day. The Old Testament made provision for grown children to take care of their parents and for the community to care for widows and orphans. That doesn't happen so much anymore, at least not in our country where nuclear families and individualism are the pride and the norm.

I don't wax political here. It was just a thought...

Superfluous Debris

The poor oceans… They are so full of planes, rockets, bombs, missiles, alien spacecrafts, and otherwise exploding or extraneous debris, plunged into her for decades in order to save mankind. Well, at least since the dawn of movies and television. Like sunken ships weren't enough to clutter her sea bottoms.

I’ve also never understood how, in any movie, someone could justify the believability of annihilating millions of dollars worth of property and possibly—or probably—killing scores of people in an attempt to secure or face one bad guy. In “Man of Steel”, Superman races 100 mph with Zod in tow, and when he finally comes to a stop, he yells, “You think… you can threaten… my mother?!!” In his path are pillars he tore through, stores left in smithereens, cars exploding in freak gasoline fires, and although they don’t show broken or dead bodies, somebody got hurt, people.  All so he could scream at the alien antagonist.

Well, his name is Superman, not Perfectman. I guess.

A Civil Offense

Okay, this one's gonna be short 'n sweet. Both my parents owned handicap placards, even though only my mom used hers.

I love that handicapped parking is provided for people who need it. However, SO many drivers park as if their handicap is something other than or in addition to a physical one... Would they not get docked if they were taking a driver's exam?!  If someone was having a baby or bleeding out, and this was an emergency room, no problem!  I can't think of a single excuse for lazy, sloppy, or this kind of otherwise haphazard parking at grocery stores, vitamin shops, hardware stores, Papa Murphy's, or the library.

I could have taken a whole lot more pictures, but a dozen is quite enough to prove my point. It is an offense to common sense for this privilege to be taken advantage of in such a cavalier manner.  Come ON...

Jesus in Disguise

God loved His way around the world and across time,
enjoying shared secrets, simple disguises, and latent surprises.
He is finishing His work in us, through us, as us.

Speaking in Chinese.

Paying in lira.

Running in moccasins.

Swimming in the Amazon.

Eating plantains.

Forgiving trespassers.

Calming.

Dissolving stereotypes.

Healing.

Befriending the smelly.

Telling a joke.

Solving an equation.

Grinding maize.

Making sandwiches.

Riding a donkey.

Laughing.

Collecting seeds.

Touching a shoulder.

Fixing cars.

Catching planes.

Learning to cook.

Changing a tire.

Savoring creation.

Brushing hair. 

Baking bread.

Writing an essay.

Paying taxes.

Crying.

Ladling soup.

Planting rice.

Performing surgery.

Driving a cab.

Providing for a debt.

Believing.

Reminding.

Staying.

Enjoying just being...

"He completes Me."

"She completes Me."

We are complete in Jesus, and as His Holy Spirit headquarters Himself in us, we go out to be about the Father's business, wherever we are, whoever we are. We go and do and say and be as His Spirit leads, and we are Jesus with all kinds of different skin on in this world.  Jesus is present to someone as a 55 year-old half-Asian woman.  A thirteen year-old Kenyan brother.  A Korean businessman in New York.  A Hewa mother in Papua, New Guinea.  Jesus is all over the place!

Sometimes my own world feels pretty small, but as a thread in His design, it is the absolute right world. Every act and word done in and by Him will remain and have some measure of eternal notice and significance.