The last time I saw my brother alive was 18 years ago this week.
The refining fire of August
Christian writing
Washed in the weight of grief
Platitudes are crushed by desperation. Fundraisers and emergency supplies are not enough when she cannot be found and even when she is.
The Voice of the Lord
Whatever the seemingly insurmountable obstacle or destructive force in the path ahead, they are no match for the One who created the fire, who shakes the wilderness.
This is a tourniquet
God is giving me, giving all of us, the opportunity to confidently and calmly tell them we have what will save your life in the end. There is a way this is supposed to work. There is a way to more than just survive.
Sanctification is no quick fix
God blesses us and looks at us with favor, not to give us things or to make our lives leisurely and easy to endure, but instead to show others how to know him, how to be saved.
Protective goggles and God’s staggering love for us
My eyes ached. I wish I were one of those strong and stoic people who said things like, “I wish I could take your place, take the pain for you.” But I’m not and I don’t. Instead I pray.
Wound care
There had to be some other flesh inserted to allow for the healing process. The split was too wide to heal on its own.
Delayed gratitude for a father’s love
It can only always be a delayed response. The slow dawning of love’s deep begins to buoy us up only after we begin to understand what has been relentlessly given.
There is no capturing God
The most amazing things in creation cannot be contained—much like their Creator. They, in fact, will not be contained. Their enjoyment diminished as they are filtered through so tiny a lens.
The skeletons in my closet, er I mean, my yard
We are bare and barren and nothing apart from the creation, covering and breath of God. We are dry bones stuck awkwardly together with the angles not quite matching up. There is no life without his command to come alive.
thatdaubing 