See how it fumbles with soft leather strap, almost inept.
Hear broken sobs, from the given heart.
Watch him blink away tears so he can see what he’s doing–
See to bind his son. His promised son.
By some reflex my head turns in real life, eyes squinted shut. As if to say “I don’t want to watch this happen.”
Amazing love.
But you know what I find almost more amazing?
See how his hand takes those straps, steady and strong.
See how he binds himself, soothes the broken, himself blinking away tears.
This strong son. The promised one.
Amazing love.
I pull out a second card. Because sometimes on sister’s birthday one card won’t say it all.
Four words– This morning I pondered with tears what it must take to stand like a rock, on a breaker out in the tide while the waves crash over. Like lighthouses do…
Because you, I, we… We’re out there, and the sandy shore from whence we’ve come is washing out, getting ever more distant. Carried away by churning foam while the water around gets deeper.
I mean, there’s the clinging, the scratching, the white-kunckled hold. But anemones and starfish have many more hands than we do. And none of them are permanent fixtures.
So it must be, that to stand rock-like, we need nothing less than to be bound to that rock by a power outside of our own. Greater than our own. Bound so firmly that neither fear nor fatigue can ever make us ask for release of reprieve.
Because it’s in the midst of the worst storms that the world most needs lighthouses…
Prisoner on the rock. …to the Rock.
Bind yourself there.
Love you forever.
di-ˌtər-mə-ˈnā-shən: firm or fixed intention to achieve a desired end…
Around the tree he goes. All business.
I stop to watch with mild amusement; my mind on other things.
Whether or not I can sense it, (I can’t) something was there. And his sense is strong enough that he won’t be easily put off. So he leaps and claws, and sniffs with this furious intensity, so excited he’s almost blind to his own opportunity…
I smell nothing, but I can see what he cannot.
“Listen, son.”
I have his attention.
“You might be able to actually get up there. But you’d have to start from here. See?”
I point to a new spot on the ground, then tap anchor points up the tree to well above my eye level.
“Then here, here, and here.”
I frankly don’t expect him to try. But I underestimate his determination.
He runs to where my finger started; whirls around. He doesn’t even pause to assess the viability of my suggestion.
He makes this scrambling charge, and he climbs.
He climbs to the point of no return, and just when I am thinking I should have thought this through better before making the suggestion, he flies out of the tree, squirrel-like.
And then he does it again. The whole thing. Nose working overtime.
He does it four times. Until his own nose and I finally convince him that what was there isn’t any more.
Crazy dog.
Or is he?
We turn to go. He, on to the next conquest.
I, to my thoughts in the quiet woods.
“Determination: firm or fixed intention to achieve a desired end…”
Intention fueled by the recognition of a reality the rest of the world totally missed.
What if we were like that?
I mean, the holy nation. The peculiar people…
Fueled by a recognition of a reality the rest of the world totally missed…
Who says the impossible is… impossible?
Dogs can climb trees. Especially if someone points out the way.
I can prove it.
I know what it is to be hungry.
Blessed beyond understanding is the man or woman, boy or girl who resolutely refuses to walk the way of the world, whose ears are closed to the suggestions of fools, and who won’t sit down as long as there is a stand to be taken anywhere…
And not so much because such resistance has saving merit of it’s own,
but because such resistance is prerequisite to finding one’s delight in the Words of God.
One cannot have the mind both to joyfully meditate, and jovially meddle with foolishness at the same time.
No more than one can be both a tree planted by rivers of waters, and chaff driven away on the wings of the wind.
You are what you love.
You are.
“…His leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper.”
If the Spirit of God has transformed you within,
you will exhibit Divine characteristics in your life, not good human characteristics.
God’s life in us expresses itself as God’s life,
The secret of a Christian is that the supernatural is made natural in him by the grace of God…”
It’s not the first time, either.
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