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Showing posts from January, 2019

If They Could Have It, You Can Too

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A tattered book on my library shelf, Deeper Experiences of Famous Christians , by James Gilchrist Lawson, has been a tremendous blessing and spiritual benefit to me down through the years.  The stories of these godly men and women from the past inspire me to plunge in to the deep end of the prayer pool -- and live in the overflow of holy love. A digital copy is available here for free.

The Way of Love

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“Nonviolence is absolute commitment to the way of love. Love is not emotional bash; it is not empty sentimentalism. It is the active outpouring of one’s whole being into the being of another.” -- Martin Luther King, Jr. #mlk, #mlkday

Just Pay Attention

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“It doesn’t have to be blue iris, it can be weeds in a vacant lot. Just pay attention, then patch a few words together and don’t try to make them elaborate. This isn’t a contest but the doorway into thanks. A silence in which another voice may speak.”  - Mary Oliver, Praying

The Magi's Prayer of Epiphany

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Three kings bow before the holy infant The heartwarming image from Christmas cards touches our hearts.  Of course -- there's a lot to the story we don't know.  1. We don't know if they were kings. The Bible says they were "wise men" or "magi".  2. We don't know if there were three of them. Tradition says so, but the only thing we know for sure is that they brought three gifts.  3. We don't know if they showed up at the manger. Again, the Christmas narrative tells us star appeared two years before. Some scholars say that Jesus, then, was two years old when the wise men showed up.  As a sentimentalist, however, I'd like to think that there were three wise men and that the star appeared two years before his birth, so they actually showed up at the manger on that special night along with the shepherds (can't prove it -- but then, nobody can disprove it either, and it sure helps with the logistics of Christmas pageants).  Since the

Empty Buckets for a Dehydrated Church

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"Dusty, musty, wrapped in the mummy-like grave clothes of formalism and modern theology, without an 'amen' in the soul or a 'hallelujah' upon the lips, without the soft flowing pearls of erstwhile tender tears of conviction upon her cheeks, sits the professing church of Jesus Christ today, like a garden drooping; like a fountain that has ceased its flow; and offers but the poor apology of a bucket of muddy water from a hardly reached well." -- Aimee Semple McPherson