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The ancient Israelites’ longing for cucumbers was really the longing for home, whether in Egypt or in a new place. I think it’s our longing too, in our strange and fearsome time.
To think that – no matter what I’ve done or haven’t, whether I’m ready or unwilling – at the last my eyes will widen in delight, it relieves me unto tears.
I know the God of my grandmother’s prayers is the God of my tearful prayers, and the God who promised to be with Abraham is the same God who continues to be with me.
I don’t talk much about The End. But I wonder if I should. Who would I be today – to my coworkers, to my family, to myself – if I knew the song were coming to a close?
Scripture says that when our salvation is accomplished and creation is healed, it will be like a reunion of beloveds, like siblings sharing a kiss.
Maybe pacing and moaning are the best prayers your uncomforted spirit can offer right now. So offer them. Without embarrassment. Without reserve.
What I’m free to do and what I ought to do aren’t always the same. Being Christian means willingly giving up some freedoms in order to better care for my neighbor.
It’s terrible to feel boxed in to a previous version of yourself. The heart of the gospel is this: everyone gets to grow and change.
We each get to decide for ourselves if our personal suffering has had a holy purpose. Joseph was ill-used by his brothers, and yet so much good came of it.
How can you tell if there is a good spirit afoot? You can tell by the fruits it yields. How can you tell a bad spirit is afoot? You can tell by the poison in the room.