Mystery

15 02 2014
Here in the Quiet speak to me now 
My ears are open to 
Your gentle sweet whispering 
Break down the door, come inside 
Shine down Your bright light 
I need a lamp for my feet, I need a lamp for my feet 

I want to hear the thunder of who You are 
To be captured inside the wonder of who You are 
I want to live I want to breathe 
To search out Your heart and all of Your mysteries 

You were the first and You’ll be the end 
Time cannot hold You down 
Why save a wretch like me? 
No eye has seen, no ear has heard 
No heart could fully know 
All of Your mystery 

Your glory burns in the stars 
Shine down your light let it burn in my heart 
Bring me to glory, bring me to you 
Lord it’s your heart that I will hold onto 

Your glory burns in the stars 
Shine down Your light let me know who You are 
Jesus, Your glory burns in the stars 
Shine down Your light, let me see You, let me see You

 

 

 





The mystery and wonder

10 12 2013

There is something about Advent 
Filled with mystery and wonder
in the midst of busy lives filled with noise
noise that simply fills the silence
we are invited to pause, reflect and wonder once again.

Imagine how it is that God himself became man
how it is that God took on human flesh
we stand in awe of the mystery of the incarnation
can we ever humanly understand this beautiful, awful, preposterous thing?

But God dwelled.
God dwelled among his people
Tabernacled with his people
so we could have a mediator
the God-man.
Emmanuel, God with us.

The wonder of Advent is the story,
the story that each moment,
we are invited once again to join
again and again.
Because no, it’s not just a story,
its the reality of mankind:
hope.

And hope is a person: Jesus Christ.

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2994 Hawaiian Avenue.

27 10 2013

I’m not sure what triggered it, but the other day I had this intense longing to go to my Grandma and Grandpa’s house.  The arrival into their driveway, the few steps you take up to the doorway, then after a good, loud knock (Grandpa definitely has some hearing problems), Grandma would greet us at the door with a huge smile across her face and wide open arms to hug each of us.  One, two, three, four girls… then Mom and Dad.

No doubt on this visit, like all the others, Grandma would have her apron on, covered in flour after just finishing the pie crust for chocolate pudding pie, my personal favorite.

The smell of Grandma and Grandpa’s house isn’t one you can replicate in a tiny candle called “Grandpa and Grandma’s house”, but if they did make a candle that smelled like their house, I most surely would have it.

The smells of dinner in the oven, pies baking, dusty books in the library, a collection of old coats from the 80′s in the closet, leather cowboy boots, laundry detergent, the dog and of course Grandpa’s aftershave and Grandma’s “Moonlit Path” lotion from Bath and Body Works.  All those smells together just make your troubles melt away as you step in the door.

Of course like any other visit, my sisters and I would either be fighting over who would use the computer, who would first play the keyboard or who would swing on the swing set built by my Grandpa outside.

Before too long, Mom gave us a look that so clearly communicated: “Remember to ask Grandma if she needs any help… OR ELSE!” and of course as the oldest, and most responsible, I was the only one to actually help.  But, whatever, I never minded because it usually meant I could sneak a little sample of dessert while no one was looking.

Dinners were memorable, and of course better than any weeknight meal we might have at home.  Grandpa always piled his food so high, and we could bet he would ask someone to “toss a roll” at some point during dinner.  So of course, we did.  Literally.

Peace.  Their home with all the smells, sounds, sights and memories makes me feel at peace, it still does.  Even today, seven years since my Grandfather’s death and almost almost three years since my Grandma’s death.

I can think of that home and be instantly transported to those treasured moments.

I miss them.  A lot.

Now, the home is unoccupied, owned by the bank.  I think.

One day I hope it will be filled with the laughter that so filled our family dinners, the tears that often streamed down my face when I sat in Grandpa’s empty chair needing advice from my Grandma and joy that will impact a new generation.

Nothing is meaningless.

Nothing is lost.

Hope remains.

I can’t wait to see Grandpa and Grandma again one day.  This time, in our TRUE home.





Tuesday Thoughts

22 10 2013

I’ve hit an interesting point in my seminary education that’s hard to describe.  As one of my favorite profs put it: you get to the point where you know enough to be dangerous.

Maybe it’s that.  Actually, it’s more than I know enough where when I talk about some of these concepts, ideas or Biblical textual criticisms/perspectives I can begin a discussion.. but… I don’t know enough to really “know” it.  Am I even making any sense?  Probably not.  There I go again…

I’ve been thinking a lot….
That’s not new for me, but I’ve been think a lot about forgiveness, life, dreams, aspirations, singleness, changing of seasons, longings, Christmas, money… the list goes on.  Sometimes the brain just needs to be turned off.  Like now, yup, now would be a good time.

I started this blog thinking it would turn into some kind of spiritual devotional for all my masses or readers (insert sarcastic eye roll), but, nope.  It’s not going to be that.  I’ve been sitting here on the couch since I got home from work a couple of hours ago working on some other work-ish projects.. now, bed time.

If anyone is even reading anymore, peace.  Blessings.  I miss y’all.

Yes, I just said y’all.  I am Texan now.





One year.

11 08 2013

One year.  A lot can change in one year.  

One year ago my Dad and I were on day two of our trip moving me across the country from Oregon to Texas. 

So much has changed.

Faith.  Trust.  Waiting.  Hope.  

My feeble knees have been strengthened, and my weary heart has grown strong again.  God has been faithful, and never once have I ever walked alone.  I say that with tears welling in my eyes, because there were days I doubted this, and heaven remained silent as I cried this past winter.  Yet God gathered my tears in his bottle, and the Holy Spirit, the comforter, has come to my side at times when I just didn’t have the strength to face another day.

What does the next year hold?  I have no clue.  But I’m ready and expectantly waiting to see how God continues to meet needs and show himself continually faithful.





Unstoppable

20 07 2013

No sin, no shame, no past, no pain can separate me from his love.
No height, no depth, no fear, no depth can separate me from his love.





Summer, and updates

4 06 2013

Hello new and old readers!

I just wanted to take a moment and update everyone on summer, and my upcoming trip to Nicaragua.

School.     Summer is well underway here in Dallas, with the temperatures to prove it!  I’ve been done with the Spring semester for nearly three weeks, but the summer session began as soon as the spring semester ended!  I’m taking just one class over the summer, The Gospels, online and so far I’ve been quite busy with it!  My work schedule has stayed the same so far, with our summer session of lessons beginning in two weeks.

Nicaragua.     Though my plane ticket has not been purchased yet, I plan to leave Friday, June 28 for Nicaragua, and to return July 6 or 7.  There are a few details to be ironed out still, and I’m in need of $600-700 more to be completely funded for the trip.  If you have more questions about my mission trip, please visit the Nicaragua tab here on my blog, and feel free to contact me by email if you have further questions, or would like to help support me financially to help with Vacation Bible School at El Padul in Nicaragua!

THANK YOU.     Thank you to everyone who has prayed for me for this trip to Nicaragua, and just through the past year as I’ve jumped into the deep end of my seminary studies.  God is so good, and I’m so grateful.  Thank you to everyone who has given financially so far, enabling me to go once again back to Nicaragua.  Words cannot say enough.

 

Meridith








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