Spinning through the universe is this little blue and green dot, sparkling like a gem against the black, wrapped with the wind, cradled by a life-giving firmament.
Spinning through the universe is this little blue and green dot, sparkling like a gem against the black, wrapped with the wind, cradled by a life-giving firmament.
Because every revolution,
every revolution,
goes somewhere.
Ends somewhere…
We’re going to do this again.
I sat there like some of you did, arms folded, but soft.
And when he said we should, this symphony in me agreed…
I’d only been home a day or two when the same girls who dreamed up the last audacious charge tapped me on the shoulder. That made three.
And that three has already become a little army.
Maybe I’m a big dreamer.
Or maybe, just maybe I dare to believe that this generation is actually willing to be different than the last.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly what it’s going to take to get us Home.
Revelation: Before Men and Angels.
Because every revolution worthy of the name goes somewhere.
And in our case, and in the case of the last 12 men to turn the world upside-down, that revolution existed for this one purpose: that Christ might be revealed to a world in darkness.
Revelation is the goal.
And memorization is the challenge.
Again, count me in.
“…It’s not even American young people and European young people working together–“
Can’t be weary in this place. Nope.
Even when I am tired. 🙂
I pinch myself over and over. Is this Europe? Is that our logo?
And am I really here?
I am. And it is.
I tingle. We all do. I have seen —I am seeing something great.
Something history will remember always.
It’s a blur. But I’m doing my best to remember every waking detail.
coming home from outreach |
friends from home 🙂 |
I’ve never had so much fun memorizing.
But really, it’s not five verses a day we’re hooked on. Or three.
It’s the constant preoccupation with the Word.
Truth be told, we’re all over the place. Some are straining their limits to the breaking point, and are still a bit behind. Likely some of you are too. I’ve just got one word for you:
Whatever you do, don’t stop.
In this quest, there is only one reason for regret:
Losing a golden opportunity to grow.
In the end the most blessed will be the ones who could barely manage 2 verses a day at the start, but who stuck with it anyway. Why, I personally know a girl whose mind became so thirsty for the Word (through relentless memorization) that she could finally nail down a chapter a day.
Try God.
If this were really about counting verses like dollars in the bank, we should never have started.
We need more than minds full of the Word.
Let this be a heart project.
Then we’re all winners.
P.s. I’ve promised the audio of the book of Acts to whoever needed it– Now easier than ever. Right click this link and click “download linked file” or “save link as.” You get the whole thing. 🙂
Did you catch what I caught?
“Now thanks be unto God, which always causeth us to triumph in Christ and maketh manifest the savour of his knowledge by us in every place. For we are unto God a sweet savour…” 2 Cor 2:14, 15a
It’s not too late to join us! 🙂 Check out the previous post for all the details. This is day 1.
Day 300, here we come!
Winter blurs into spring; projects blur into each other. And blogs sometimes fall silent while we trace the trail assigned us. (Texas and Minnesota being the destinations in the last 7 days.)
Seattle skyline as seen from the hotel that will be hosting GYC. |
Or check out the Acts: Memorization tab on either thenebblettfamily.com or seannebblett.com
Some songs keep singing long after the baton is back in its sleeve.
Jared Westbrook |
In one, my heart strains after more perfect service, and my lips silent form the morning’s plea.
In the other, the lyrics to my all-time favorite choral anthem run over and over; warm, fill.
I roll out of bed.
My thoughts merge on the 8th Psalm. I play the words of the incredulous poet over in my head.
Wait.
What’s the word?
Neato (the iPad) comes into service. I memorized the 8th Psalm as a boy, but perhaps it was a different version.
Hey, were did my praise word go?
I switch to Strongs.
The word is Strength. The word is also Praise.
Same word.
Same thing?
I squint at the screen, thinking, not seeing. My finger dances at the edge of discovery.
Strength and song go together.
Wait… Give Him strength? Make that praise.
I lean back in the futon, satisfied.
Praise is strength. Song is strength.
It “stills the enemy and the avenger.” (Ps. 8)
That’s perfect service.
Both trains of thought are satisfied.
To praise Him perfectly is to serve Him perfectly.
From home to Houston, and back again.
The words of my brother Sebastian ring in my ears still–
It’s a new day.
It’s a new day…
What a way to start the year.
My stare rests blank on blank journal pages… Empty lines pleading to be filled with the fullness of days behind me.
Of waking high up, under Hilton-branded down, exhausted. Of learning to trust each new logistical catastrophe with the Ultimate Authority. Of joy overflowing while directing thousands of people through registration line. Of listening to 7,000 people sing I’ll Go Where You Want Me To Go right at my feet. (There is nothing, nothing like it in the world.) Of praying with seasoned soldiers, and nervous musicians. Of watching eyes water at God’s goodness. Of investing in beautiful young lives. Of having my burdens lifted by the Merciful God through my humble, brilliant team. Of hearing God’s name praised over my broken efforts. Of 190 voices and instruments singing Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah!
Of quieter moments. Behind a lens. Behind the stage. Discussing purpose with one friend, and the 85 Prime with another. Of grabbing my little sister’s arm every time I saw her. Of the joy of walking back over to the Hilton and finding 5 other Nebbletts in the room at random in the middle of the day (if only for 45 seconds). Of sunrise over Houston from the skyline patio 23 floors up. Of words– words from old friends and new that gripped; moved; changed.
My spine tingles.
And that’s not even the start. I don’t know where to start.
So I won’t even try… not now.
I’ll just tell you the bottom line. The thing I most want to remember from GYC 2011.
You’ve heard of Murphy’s law, no doubt?
I’ve learned there’s one greater.
Maybe we should call it Houston’s law.
Houston: City of Miracles. Where almost every dept. encountered some kind of logistical catastrophe, but nobody ever noticed. But called it instead the conference of conferences…
Because when the enemy is against it, but God is in it—
Anything that can go wrong, will be extra fuel for Glory.
It’s a new day.
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