...today...

Justice, they say, was brought about today. The court heard the witnesses, and a man heard his sentence: five years in prison. He's been convicted; he must pay for what he's done. This, they say, is justice. The man will serve his time, and eventually will be set free. But the consequences of his crime has not been cleared away. The victims have not been given their lives back. The innocent bystanders are still dealing with the emotional scars. A world was broken down because of this man and no prison time is going to make it all right again. But the judge heard the case, swung the gavel, and declared it to be just.
Its hard not to be angry and demand, along with justice, restitution to the wrong that has been done. But full restitution is impossible. Innocence cannot be regained. Trust cannot be restored overnight to its former glory, if at all. Even though justice has been wrought, there are things that will never be recovered. Deep wounds on the heart will take years, maybe even a lifetime, to heal. And even then there will be ugly scars.

Lives were disrupted and destroyed all because of sin. Sin that didn't think of others or the consequences. It only thought of the present and itself. A moment's decision, that choice...it changed the course of many different lives. It would be easier if he was the only one who paid for this. But he's not. His family, his friends, even his church pays for it. His choice affected others. There may be repentance and forgiveness. But there is also hurt and loss. Let them grieve this loss, this death of life as they know it. For that is the price they pay regardless if they had a choice in the matter or not.

Emotions are raw and tears flow readily. Its not easy to love, to see him as God sees him. Fingers itch to hold on to anger and let bitterness grow. The heart is heavy for those who are much closer to the whole thing than I am. And words to express all of this get lodged in my throat.

Today felt like a lifetime.

A Marvelous Day

Yesterday was spent with a very good friend of mine. As in, we've been friends for years. We've been through a lot and continue to go through it all. We don't get to spend that much time together due to my very busy life, but I love getting together with her. And now she has a little guy who has won my heart. (all he did was smile!)
Last summer we promised each other that we'd go out for sushi once Linc was born. He's four and half months old now, and we finally had to set a day to do it before I leave. We also drank coffee, perused old books, prowled through a home stylin' store, and talked about how we felt like impostors acting all grown up and stuff with a baby and everything. And so we made sushi. We got all the ingredients to make sushi. After I got there, we decided to go out for it, and then make some for supper. Sushi twice in one day? Why not?
As we walked briskly (it was cold!) to the coffee shop, we paused for a picture. The first one looked like we didn't like each other so this one quickly followed. She had no idea what I was doing.

By the third one, we look a bit cheesy. But hey. This is us. And it was a fun moment to have captured. Just ignore Linc's non-enthused face. He really did like me, and enjoyed the day filled with sushi and girls.

We're already looking forward and planning the day we can do this again....two years from now.

What About the Open Door?

The other day, I came across a quotable thought in my book. (The context is about world wide evangelism.) Ever have an "aha!" moment? That was me after reading the following.

"It is true that many doors are closed at the moment, but God is able to open closed doors overnight, and God is able to work behind closed doors. My concern is not with closed doors; my concern is with the doors that are open which we do not enter. If God's people were really faithful and were doing everything possible to finish the task, God would see to it that the doors were opened. Our responsibility is the many doors standing wide open which we are not entering."
                          -G. E. Ladd (italics mine)

Our Greatest Strength

           Traffic hums and squeaks. Phones buzz and ring. Music blares, and people bustle. If one doesn't keep up, they can soon feel lost at sea not knowing where they fit in but compelled to add some of their own noise. We sit in church every Sunday a little restless and anxious at the stillness of prayer, and the speaker who pauses between thoughts. Afterward we fill the sanctuary and the foyer with our own words. The place becomes alive with the sound of stampeding children, laughing adults, and wailing infants while we breath a little easier. We leave in the same manner we came to church: the moment we get into the vehicle there's music or a talk show host jibber jabbering. When lunch is done we curl up in a blanket for a nap only to fight a battle of trying to shut down our thoughts long enough to fall asleep. This is our world. A world spun out of busyness.
       What happened to times of reflection? Since when must our lives be filled with chaos in order to have a successful life? What is that sense of awkwardness when there is a moment of quiet in the house? Why is there an urgency to fill it?
      And why am I afraid to be silent? When I wait in silence and feel the presence of the Lord close to me, why am I always tempted to say or do something in order to break that silence?

        "Religion, " says Tozer, "has accepted the monstrous heresy that noise, size, activity, and bluster make a man dear to God. But we may take heart. To a people caught in the tempest of the last great conflict God says, 'be still, and know that I am God.' (Psalm 46:10), and still He says it, as if He means to tell us that our strength and safety lie not in noise but in silence."

There's a learning going on in my life. A learning to be silent; to be okay with silence, to rejoice and be comfortable in it. But not just any silence. A silence that is the acknowledgement of God searching and knowing my heart. A silence that dwells in the thought that He is God. The beginning was uncomfortable as I became more and more aware of Him. This was accompanied with a greater sense of awareness of myself and my shortcomings. Each time it left me shaken. But it left me with a greater desire to know Him more. Truly, silence is golden.