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17 March 2024

the Jesus rut

We didn't go to Disney or hike the Grand Canyon, but a 24 hour family trip to the Memphis Zoo, and a 24 hour mom and dad trip to Oxford (Mississippi :) and lots of downtime and family time made this Spring Break a good one!  We watched a few Columbo's (our newly discovered version of family-friendly murder mystery for the teens), spent lots of time with friends, had court, a funeral, youth group and Bible study and friends for dinner and a game night.  Spring break has also delayed the smack of the time change, which will be hitting hard tomorrow morning at 6!

Extra time with them, and twenty-four hours without them, just reminded me how deeply we love these 7 kiddos.  I sure hope and pray I'm a good mama, 'cause I sure am doing my best.  They stretch me in every way possible, stomp all over my insecurities (and frequently announce them), push all my limits of trusting the Lord, and cover every surface of my life and sanity with their fingerprints, but the Lord absolutely continues to refine and sanctify my life through these children, toddler to teens, and I'm THANKFUL. 

A day away with Matt was so lovely...it has been a long time since I simply got in a car, or simply got out of a car, or simply decided what I'd like to eat, or when I'd like to go to bed, or when I'd like to get up, or what Matt and I would like to talk about...uninterrupted!  I am not letting 8 more years go by without an overnight away!!! I wish I had prioritized this for our marriage and even for myself and my mothering before now.  Please sign-up now for 24 hours manning the Ayars crew in six months :)

A few random things I've been thinking about...

I can't tell you how many people have warned me not to burn these kids out on Jesus...but NO ONE has ever told me to be careful not to burn them out on sports or dance or social activities or on school.  No one hesitates to take kiddos to hours and hours of practices a week, to drive hours for competitions and meets, to spend untold amounts of money on costumes and uniforms and gear and goals, but since becoming a pastor's wife, several people have told me to be careful about church!  What in the world, culture!?  I don't usually speak this plainly, but you are wrong and I do not want to hear it.  

We can burn our babies out on religion, on practices for the sake of them, on playing church, on preaching one thing and living at home something else, absolutely. We can burn out our kids on white-washing, on "Christian" competition, on good works without His love, on church-attendance that's about church-attendance.

I will never tell (and I have caught myself in the middle and done an Uncle Dave visible self-silencing!) one of these kiddos to behave a certain way because we don't want a person to think such-and-such, or because we want to appear a certain way before man, or because missionary kids/presidents kids/pastors kids should/shouldn't...dot.dot.dot.  I WILL talk to them, endlessly, their eyes rolling, about speaking and behaving the way of JESUS. About looking like HIS Children.  Because God's Word is the TRUTH and LIFE and WAY for our lives and their lives. Because we have an audience of One who is Holy and FOREVER.

But I will not let them decide if they want to go to church or not. I will not allow them to miss family devotions. I will not let them pick a baseball game over church or a hang out over youth group. We will take their friends with us, we will have to miss that practice, and we will make sure church isn't a check box and that youth group isn't hype or social club. I won't pass up an opportunity to point them to Jesus instead of the world. And I will not be silent about His Word or about Jesus because they don't want to hear it, or because it's cringe, or because they've heard it before, or because I don't want to make them tired of Jesus. 

Man alive, if I can't make it through a trip to Wal-Mart without Him, how are my children supposed to make it through life? They will be in the habit of turning to Him, of praying about it, of giving it to Him...or what habits am I bothering to repeat a million times to teach them?? If I can't speak a good, wise word on my own, if I can't do a worthy action on my own strength, if I can't build ONE lasting brick on a foundation other than Him, what am I teaching or giving them that matters outside of Jesus, and gathering together with other believers, and interrupting life constantly to remember Him?  

If He tells His people to write His word on our foreheads, to train up our children, to meditate on Him day and night, then I figure He can handle the dangers of them burning out on Jesus. 

More of Jesus has always made me hungrier, not sick. 

Don't burn your kids out on religion. But don't you worry about burning people out on Jesus. If He never, ever stops pursuing His children, nor shall I. And if I die at 45 like my mama did, my kids won't even have to think about where to turn or how to make my faith their own. The ruts will be worn, Jesus help me and bless them! Don't warn me about making Jesus our rut. 

We have tried it all, friends, haven't we? IS there anything else??

And if I'm wrong, I'd rather go wrong here than wrong on grades. Or healthy diets. Or sports. or. well. anything else. 

I had more thoughts about that than I thought I did :). 

I'll save my other thoughts for another day....but let me push myself and you again to be in His Word daily. It is SO EASY for our world and culture to feel like the norm, like the goal, like the truth...and it is only His Word that recalibrates our truth to HIM, our culture to HIS. His kingdom is NOT like this one, our God is like no other, Jesus wasn't living or talking or looking or walking like anyone else, the Word is living and breathing and God-inspired like nothing else....if we are NOT looking different today too, friends, something. is. wrong.











15 March 2024

making space

Matt and I are getting away overnight for the first time since. I. was. pregnant. 

With Nora.

Nora is eight. 

It is embarrassing that that is how long ONE NIGHT away together has taken to prioritize, and also that I have grown so accustomed to keeping it all together with everyone that I have allowed it to become impossible. 

Dad and Cindy kept Lily and Sofie overnight when I was 8 months pregnant so we could go to Amish Country in Ohio, and it was so good and sweet and restful that I remember. 

Then we added five more kids and were and then moved far from family and it's not often someone has both said, "When was the last time you and Matt got away for a few days?" and ALSO, "I'd love to hang with the kids so you could!"

 I would have never let any of our friends get away with this, and I'm trying to be more of my friend lately.

Praising the Lord for HANNAH, who DID ask and DID ask to come and who is giving up 24 hours of her hard earned Spring Break, and whom the kids will adore spending time with so much while Matt and I drive two hours to Oxford Mississippi, a town we've always wanted to explore (and honestly, doesn't matter where.)

We leave this afternoon and come back tomorrow afternoon for a funeral with dear ones, but I am trying to wrap my mind around NOT planning my evening around what's best for the kiddos, and going to bed, and eating, and sleeping where and when we want to, and around 24 uninterrupted hours with Matt!

It comes at good time. I spent the afternoon yesterday with our bonus girls in the juvenile court, and there has been little that discourages and wearies me like these afternoons. Yesterday was no exception, the girls quickly being taken out and put in the "kids room" (where they have spent so much time over the years it has truly become a traumatic place) and an hour of heated arguing while I mostly stared into the carpet. 

Did you know 1 in 10 kiddos in Mississippi are in the foster care system? 76% of the 600,000 kids in the US in state custody because of neglect? As I walk our neighborhood each afternoon with a gaggle of kiddos, I can't help but pray that every 10th house will open their lives to a kiddo who needs them.

The mama in me screams internally every time we head into that dirty, dark and depressing juvenile court building, and I can hardly keep up with all the prayers I'm streaming while so many worlds are coming down around me. As always, what we learned yesterday is that it is possible the girls' situation will change, and also that the girls' situation will not change, and all the doubt, pain and questions that come with these always heated and confused conversations follows you home. 

I have very little voice, foster mama, understandably. But it is hard to sit and hear children's lives discussed and watch the best and the good often discarded and long-forgotten in long legal discussions and lots of variants and versions of truth.

If you're looking for something life-giving and fun, I would strongly not recommend foster care. It's probably the hardest thing we have ever done...not loving on the kiddos, but holding them loosely and having very little ability to protect them and help them thrive when not under our roof, trusting the Lord with them when decisions for their lives are being made after having already lived through so much.

But man alive are you needed. If your family has a little space in your hearts and family clearly formed by the Lord, there are so many foster families who need a little support, so many foster kiddos who need just that little space. There are so many kiddos in that "kids room" who need someone to sit in the middle of the argument and interject on their behalf, to take them home after and let them eat ice cream and wash off the day and assure them that no matter what happens, there will be a place in your heart and your family and your home, always, for them, because Jesus...the only thing that remains after good intentions and best efforts and biggest hopes crumble.

So thankful for Hannah giving Matt and I a little space to realign and rest!







10 March 2024

that day

This week Matt kicked off New Beginning Church's first Bible Study, and man alive this man can teach. He's doing the book of Psalms, a study I've never done before, and it was SO good.

I can't help but look back to that day, when he was 17, before I even knew Matt existed, that the Lord spoke to him first and clearly, You will teach my Word.

When we sat in massive churches in Haiti, Matt preaching the anticipated hour in passionate, fluid Creole, young men on the edge of their benches, I remembered that day and thought, you were right, Lord, bet he never thought like this.

When he taught classes at Wesley, students around the world online and Mississippi pastors at the desks, changing out his "you guys" for "y'alls", I thought yes, Lord, it was true and I bet he didn't ever think here. 

This Thursday night at Mama Hamils, a local Southern-soul food restaurant a friend owns, 70 men and women turned out...many of whom have had Bibles in hand their whole lives, like me. Without missing a beat, without a note or outline or book, he launched us into Psalms...a book I've read dozens of times and yet never looked at like this. We all couldn't write fast enough.

Never thought like this, I ponder these things up in my heart, but you were right, Lord, he will teach your Word, and you have equipped him.

It probably amuses-slash-irritates the Lord when I note Him right. As if there was a chance He wasn't. 

Of course He saw all these things, long before He spoke to Matt, as He was even weaving him together. Of course He saw every country, every church, every classroom, every restaurant, every future place, and spoke it plain and simple, Ebenezer with oil on top...You will teach my Word. 

And of course alongside came the equipping for the calling, the provision for the empowering, the faithfulness in the contracting.

Of course, that being said by the Almighty God, it IS. And of course, called and equipped and helped by God, when you experience Matt doing what he was made for, you think, "Man alive, I've never seen or heard anything like this."   

It excites me, not because of Matt, but because of ALL the stories of His children.  Because of Your story.

He made you for something. Somethings. He's called you, is calling you, for the very thing He made you for, and He can and will do it BETTER and AMAZING through you, like no one's ever seen or heard, and that will change things for those He calls you to.

Men and women TODAY in broken dark Haiti are full of hope and preaching God's Word, WELL, because God made and equipped and called Matt to teach His Word there.  

While it's easy for me to experience Matt's teaching gift and feel like I don't have anything like that to offer, He reminds me that what is special and life-changing is just Jesus through Matt, and THAT, I do have. What He's given me to share that's worth something, that's life-changing, is just Himself, and I do have THAT. 

Whatever is hindering you from living into and sharing what He made you for...ask Him to show us and to help us lay it down. We don't have to offer up anything good in ourselves...just ourselves. Just obedience. 

He's at work in anyone who believes and obeys, and God at work? 

 that's what's mighty. 

I am reminding you. You keep on reminding me.








03 March 2024

teenagers

Pleaaaassseeeee rinse and put your dirty dishes in the dishwasher! I pleaded yesterday, thousandth time. Putting dirty dishes in the sink says, "here, mom, you do it." 

Without missing a beat, sass-teen snorts "That's exactly what I MEANT it to say."

Too closely following a Saturday morning ordeal over "never/no screens upstairs" violation, I packed up the little three and headed to Lady Janes.

It was easier when she was next door. 

Nora asked me a few days ago if we hadn't had that unplanned emergency sleepover two years ago now that turned us into a family of 9, would we still live next to Lady Jane. 

Probably.

Lord knew. Lord knows. There have been lots of sacrifices this life worth their weight, and more I'll see the worth of one day, heaven-side. 

Into a dark, quiet-quiet house my three exploded, home away from home, and Lady Jane sat in a cheery yellow sweater and caught me up on life. Emma raided her toy cabinet while Ben and Nora found the chocolate and resumed a back-yard game.

After we talked about health and grandkids, I told her these four teenagers were killing me, and she did what she always does. Listened. Agreed. Told me a story from her life. Gave me a hug.

Lady Jane's daughter is one of our favorite people on earth. She thinks of others and loves BIG and gives continually. Everyone who knows her says the same. She would and DOES do anything for anyone with such a gracious spirit. She's come to the new church two Sunday afternoons already to see us and hear Matt preach, and I KNOW she doesn't have time for that! 

But turns out a very, very long time ago (I'm calling you out, Suzu :), 8th - 12th grade, there wasn't a thing Lady Jane could say without a sassy response, years, even, that LJ says they could barely have a conversation. Oh, she was SUCH a pill, Lady Jane chuckled yesterday shaking her head, remembering, and then told me how come college, all Suzu wanted to do was come home and be dear friends...a lifetime of sweet love and friendship so apparent to us all. 

After Ben snuggled chocolate onto that sunshine sweater and Emma had three bye-bye kisses, we headed back to my moody teens yesterday afternoon to get ready for teen #2's party, and I felt SO. MUCH. BETTER.

She didn't fix anything.

But her story and her testimony and the testimony of Suzu gave me such hope. 

These girls are NOT gonna kill me, though some days I swear they are trying. 

When the house was full of incredibly loud and awkward teens last night, I cut ice cream cake and smiled from the background, trying not to be embarrassing. 

I wish I could call my mom and be her friend.  I wish I could call dad, like I got accustomed to doing the last 20 years when I missed mom, and tell him what a mess, and he could remind me mom and I were, too.  

And he'd tell me again that these teenage girls--two my blood and four my heart--they're supposed to be a mess. They're supposed to be pills. They're supposed to be hormonal and dramatic and difficult and lazy and stubborn. They're on the teenage rollercoaster, but that rollercoaster is IN His hands, and I'm supposed to be at the bottom, a firm foundation and safe place for drama...holding their bags and stupid Stanley's and refusing to ride and pointing to Jesus. 

Two brothers in our church lost their mama a week ago today, and as I hugged one of them this morning, he said dazedly, "I know I'm grown, but my dad died when I was four and I guess it really hurts I'm like an orphan now."

I get that. 

But we're not.

As long as there are Lady Janes and Gaga's and Aunt Sharons, as long as there are Ana's and Lori's and Suzu's and Betsy's and Dawn's and so so many others in the Body of Christ, filling the gaps, we're just NOT. 

Not alone. Not orphans.

Not defeated. Not dying slow deaths by teenagers. 

Praise the Lord He's given us each other to fortify. 

I want to walk close enough to Him to be pointing to Jesus and His strength and courage, like Lady Jane does, without even trying.  

Grateful for you.


28 February 2024

stories

Yesterday was crazier than planned...school, Adam's funeral, another meet-n-greet with 12 church family, a massive tree coming this close to smashing the party bus, two school pick-ups, and family dinner with Gaga and Ethan and a few young friends to celebrate H's 14th birthday! 

You know I love people's stories, and these meet-n-greets--Matt's idea for helping us get to know people more intimately and in smaller groups at a time--have been FULL of stories. I wish I could share them the way I always could in Haiti...different cultures, different communities. 

But I will say.

A new friend living in sin they thought too hard for Him to handle testified of the Lord waking them up in the middle of the night, over and over, and showing Himself and His great love. A testimony of a twenty year battle that ended in miraculous and instant and true healing. Stories of miraculous leading from the Lord, and of His genuine love manifesting in unexpected and unwelcomed places. 

Even between frantic phone calls from dear neighbors about said tree, and phone calls from Sofie at the house about a home inspector showing up for a pop-by foster visit WHILE trees were falling and while mom and dad were in the church gathering (head.in.hands)...the stories of the men and women around us are so powerful and inspiring. 

God's at work when we want and when we see it and when we don't. 

I love the reminders that our loved ones far from Him are being pursued by Him, regardless and always. I love the reminders that while we wrestle, He wrestles with us, and little by little or sometimes all at once, there is freedom in Him...persevere. I love that He wants ALL of it, ALL of us, and isn't content with pieces...that's some kind of love. And I love the while we live in our own worlds, at times we are reminded of all the worlds around us where He is also working a the same time...brothers and sisters in Christ is truly a gift and miracle, eyes on Jesus. 

Share your stories and be made aware of God at work all around you.

I've been straying from social media and so here's random pictures from the days.  

Lily got to go to a theater conference last weekend and meet some amazing people and all her dreams, lately, are on Broadway.  Quote: "What country can I go to and be a missionary during the week, and be in plays on the weekends?"


Nobody Emma loves like Chou-Chou.


I walked by the art room the other day and found Emma all alone, working hard.

The front of our house is a constant parking lot for bikes, scooters, roller blades and skateboards...I don't even know who these all belong to :)
Ben just started kindergarten baseball, and he. is. obsessed. 
We got to join dear friends for Morgan's birthday dinner Saturday...a very rare double date and so cherished.  We are thankful for Morgan and her precious family every.day.

oh, memories. Granny and her grandson Prince Lou and Dad and Ben, one born 5 lbs and one born 9 :)

26 February 2024

while we wait

And just as spring often does, some color and light seems to be filtering back into such a long and dark season. Small joys like tulips seem to be pushing through...new habits genuinely forming...broken places stretching some and growing stronger. 

Since the Lord brought me to that revelation of His river , He's been faithful to bring me back to the image many times. I've gone from realizing that I have available to me His supernatural Living Water to truly drinking of it daily and choosing to just walk in the river instead of visit it. 

I don't have to mama out of my own patience with His help. He wants to pour into me HIS super-natural patience, to be poured out upon my children.

I don't have to get out of bed on my own strength and effort, walking with Him. He has me standing in the waters of HIS super-natural strength and completely victory, and I can walk in that, instead. 

I don't have to forgive out of my own character and courage, looking for Him. I can put my feet in His scarred footprints and walk in the forgiveness He bled. 

I don't have to navigate change and challenges by my own best reason and weak wisdom, but have HIS Spirit and His sufficient help and wisdom available to me.

I don't have to pour out of myself. I can simply receive what He is graciously sharing with me and share it on. 

I am not constrained to the physical, but am amphibious, physical AND spiritual, my eyes above the ripples, fixed on His throne, pouring ever-renewing, satisfying, cleansing, invigorating Living Water.

It's been a subtle shift, but I can honestly say that these days, every time I put out my hand to pray for a man, woman or child, I slip my feet into the stream and lift them up according to what He's flowing, not what I've got. When I wonder what to pray, how to feel, what to say, what perspective to take, you'll catch me shuffle and splash my feet about a bit, physically reminding myself of the spiritual river I'm standing in. When my heart is aching, I hear the rushing water and lift my eyes ahead to the throne upon which He sits, just ahead, the saints around. 

Just ahead. 

Spring is coming, Jesus, too, bright hope and a future, healing and wholeness, no more tears or suffering, just ahead. While we wait, I'm getting ready.

Getting ready while we wait makes all the difference. 


Jesus doesn't bring anything up from the wells of human nature--He brings them down from above.  The well of your incompleteness runs deep, but make the effort to look away from yourself and to look toward Him. -O Chambers

23 February 2024

everything

The week's been full of continued recovery, a theater conference, winter formal for Lily, two "Meet Matt and Stacey" church gatherings, homework, three kiddos with a Science Fair today, and the death of a family friend here in Jackson, father to eight kiddos and a wife we love dearly. 

So it's been a week that blended tears with baking soda and vinegar, prayers with nail appointments and church bulletin edits, new community with old stories, people we miss and people we are grateful for.  New church family brought strawberry cake and Mississippi pot roast a night we were running 11 directions and badly needed it, old neighbors continue to fill our new neighborhood with good family, and hearing the stories of many many this week, I'm reminded everyone has been through a lot and there are people choosing Jesus every day and I see Him. 

I'm also seeing people chose forgiveness in really unforgivable places, and that example shapes me, mirrored straight from the cross. 

The seven I serve with most of my time and self don't often see me, but He reminds me that when I am motivated by my love for HIM, no amount of ingratitude can hinder us from serving one another, eyes on Jesus.

Most, He seems to be teaching me a lot about the church, His bride! It's always been the ministry of those we've been called to serve...but it's never been OUR full calling and ministry.  Verna, a life-time pastor's wife, gave me some great advice about praying about everything, our battle not being against flesh and blood, but over the very souls of His creation, and her words have come back to me over and over.

So stop and pray about everything, family...the enemy is not as it seems, and the True Enemy has done been defeated, as they say in Mississippi :)

The Lord sits enthroned over the flood, King forever. May He give strength to His people and bless His people with peace. 





16 February 2024

sick days, grief as an honor

Friends, I've been sicker than I usually get...just as soon as I got all the kids over the hump of colds and coughs, I managed to get it deep. I am still in a congestion cloud, but as you know, the show must go on and we're just pushing.  The extras...the blog, the laundry, the sweeping...have gone by the wayside and I'm feeling it!

We had our first (for the Ayars) Ash Wednesday service Valentine's Day. Without a building, we met in a hotel, and it was a precious time, not just refocusing on our humanity and repentance, but also being with community that is becoming familiar...and the precious gift of Betsy and Robin showing up, yet again, when it really mattered.

Isaiah led us in How Deep the Father's Love for Us, and OH man. Surely it's not the first time I've sung that song, but the words sure hit like it was.  

As Betsy continues her battle with cancer, she somehow keeps showing up for me...really praying, really stopping and stepping into the middle of our chaos, really listening and really sharing from her own life and experience, really walking into the room of strangers to worship with us, Ash Wednesday. So thankful for friends like this.

We made up for date night last night, but ended up in the urgent care with a Matt who is feeling worse instead of better. Sometimes you just feel like you should be over something by now...and it's a hard reminder when you're simply not. 

Since leaving Haiti, this has been a hard dynamic for me to wrestle with. Dad's death, hard cycles, leaving Haiti suddenly, even being sick these 10 days... No matter what other people think, once I have decided I should be over something by now, I'm incredibly frustrated when tears or tissues or heartache remind me that I'm simply not...and cannot decide my way into healing.  

So Lord. Enter and stay with me, bidding me trust your gracious provision for each hour. You are at work within my very woundedness, kindling more eternal yearnings, and I would learn to let you accomplish your sanctifying labors in me. 

Meanwhile, as life has gone on, Lily got to meet with this precious couple from Haiti in a chapel service at school, bringing tears to all of them and to mama at home. Her love and home-ness for Haiti is always so real and deep, and I praise the Lord always for this community, calling and culture engrained in Lily!  They taught the students a simple little Haitian song, one that Lily and Sofie sang every single day in school in Haiti, and hearing it sung around her again in such a different context totally undid my dear girl.

I'm working on getting back among the land of the living...thank you for being friends who walk through the seasons with me!




How Deep the Father's Love for Us
How deep the Father's love for us
How vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure
How great the pain of searing loss
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the Chosen One
Bring many sons to glory
Behold the man upon a cross
My sin upon His shoulders
Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice
Call out among the scoffers
It was my sin that held Him there
Until it was accomplished
His dying breath has brought me life
I know that it is finished
I will not boast in anything
No gifts, no power, no wisdom
But I will boast in Jesus Christ
His death and resurrection
Why should I gain from His reward?
I cannot give an answer
But this I know with all my heart
His wounds have paid my ransom




06 February 2024

mercy in our hands

I've almost finished Jackie Hill Perry's new devotional Upon Waking, and her fresh perspective on unchanging truths has been such a gift this season. 

This morning she pointed out to me the obvious truth that God's questions to mankind aren't His way of finding out missing information or satisfying curiosity, but are for the benefit of the one being questioned alone.  The first question, of course, was asking Adam and Eve where they were that afternoon in the garden, though we know God's head wasn't turning to the right and left in wonder.  

In asking "Where are you?", God was really asking, "Why are you not near?" or "Why is there distance between us when all there has ever been is love?" or "Where are you in relation to me?" 

He wasn't asking them to know. He was asking to bring them near.

What a mercy it is to be questioned by God, she pointed out, a theme that has been coming to me frequently.

His mercy in Scripture is as repetitive as the sunrises, clear to us, looking back, that often what was seen as God's silence or God's distance or God's unkind allowance of suffering was actually His MERCY holding their hands. 

If it's repetitive throughout His Word, it must be repetitive in our lives, and if in looking back His mercy is clear, than I can trust that His mercy is holding my current situation tight.  I can trust that His mercy is holding my hand...dragging me out of the city as it did Lot and his wife and daughters, guiding me to water as it did Hagar in the wilderness, bringing me out of slavery as His mercy heard and brought Israel up out of Egypt dancing.  His mercy in my life must be the same powerful mercy that caused Jesus's hands to hold firm against that wood for their nails, the same mercy that has seen many brought to His throne, the same mercy that met Paul in shipwreck and in pain. 

So what is God asking us, dear ones? 

His most common question to me--whispered over messes and pains unsortable--is always Do you trust me? He knows the contents of my heart already and isn't wondering over my allegiance. 

But He often seems to want ME to remember that He is trustworthy, that He is my answer, that mercy is in His hands.

So as I lifted mine Sunday, the altar where I not long ago put my arms around my dad in prayer in front of me once more, He reminded me that in my empty hands are His. In my palms is His tender mercy. In His questions are His unfailing love. 

And when our hands are dripping with His mercy and love, we can climb higher still with Him, not looking back. 

Where's His mercy evident in your life? And what is He asking you of the places it appears to be missing?



 

02 February 2024

A Liturgy for the Anniversary of a Loss

I have felt its approach in the back of my mind,
like a burden tilting toward me
across the calendar. I have felt its
long approach, and now it has arrived.

This is the day that marks
the anniversary of my loss,
and waking to it,
I must drink again
from the stream of a sorrow
that cannot be fully remedied 
in this life.

O Christ, redeem this day.

I do not ask that these
lingers of grief be erased,
but that the fingers of your grace
would work this memory as a baker
kneads a dough, till the leaven of
rising hope transforms it from within,
into a form holding now in that same
sorrow the surety of your presence,
so that when I look again at that loss,
I see you in the deepest gloom of it,
weeping with me,
even as I hear you whispering,
that this is not the end, but only the still
grey of the dawn before the world begins.

And if that is so, then let that which broke me
upon this day in the past year,
now be seen as the beginning 
of my remaking into a Christ-follower
more sympathetic,
more compassionate,
more conscious
of my frailty and of my daily dependence 
upon you; as one more invested in
the hope of the resurrection of the body
and the return of the King,
than ever I had been before. 

Let this loss-hollowed day 
arrive in years to come
as the kindling of a fire in my bones,
spurring me to seek in this short life
that which is eternal. 

Let this past wound, and the memory of it,
push me to be present with you
in ways that I was not before.

Do not waste my greatest sorrows, O God,
but use them to teach me to live
in your presence--fully alive
to pain and joy and sorrow and hope--
in the places where my shattering
and your shaping
meet.

DK McKelvey