All That Matters

Podcasts keep me sane. You?

So on the first day of 2016 as I de-Christmassed I heard this on The Liturgists podcast:

“It’s made me a better writer to stop trying to phrase things in such a way that there’s no room for misinterpretation. Because that’s impossible. When you try, you get legal fine print.” (thank you Science Mike)

And I knew fear kept me from writing. Because I know I will step on toes. And I know that it takes too much for me to disclaim everything so everyone will still like me.

But now I’m 40. So yeah, I’ve been brushing on the last quarter of my eyebrows for a few months. (where did they go? apparently other unwanted places.) But also, I love 40. I don’t give so much of a rip what other people I don’t know think about me anymore. Also, I do not write because I think I know everything or I want to give advice. (gag) It’s just that I feel I must. 

So thank you for grace and love and being my sounding board as I explore the tensions of this life on earth.

Also, I was asked to write, so that helps. Here’s a bit of what I wrote for A Bundle of Thyme…

I wondered the other day if I viewed Jesus as my back-up plan. I had consoled a dear friend when she expressed disappointment that all her hard work didn’t have the payoff she wanted, and I said in the Christmas spirit, “but we have Jesus!”

Later folding laundry the question popped in my head, “Do I really get excited that I have Jesus or is it only when I’m out of options?”

For example: we didn’t get the job–we have Jesus. We lost the pregnancy–but Jesus. We blew up another relationship–Jesus.

Is Jesus just my consolation prize?

Of course I want Him to be my first, last, everything, and even still, I resort again to my efforts, my way. And then the hard stuff hits and I remember, oh yeah I need peace and joy, and oh yeah, Jesus.

Dang it.

If only I could remain in that place of resting in Him, the whole “I shall not want.” You know, the abiding thing.

Me – God = Nothing

Me + God = Everything

The math is clear.

Right?

By the time you read this I will have just turned forty.

But I know less now than I did when I was twenty.

(read the rest here)

 

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