listening

listening

Thursday, April 11, 2013

Reading Him

John 1:1

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.



There is this quiet
In the house these days
As the Little Sister and I sit side by side
Reading.

The chores are finished and we've got some time
Precious moments stolen
As we each gather a book, and sit silently
Reading.

At first I think I should put on some music
But no
This silence is lost, and this silence is golden
We're Reading.

I rush quite constant
And it crushes my soul: the doing not being
The running means there's no time
For Reading.

Pages and pages of beloved Psalms
Proverbs one at a time
1 Thessalonians today
Just Reading.

A Chapter of Jeremiah because...
Andrew and I are reading it together
And The Boy is being transformed into a Man of God
by Reading

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind...  Romans 12:2

I wonder at this lost gift
In a lost world
And I can't help but think it's because...
We stopped Reading.

Stopped reading the Gospels
Matthew, Mark, Luke and John
So that we might know Christ
By Reading.

His love letters to us.
All that we can about His character.
Sex and suffering, laughing and crying, living and dying all there in His book
For Reading.

Taking Him In so we can live Him out
Studying His precious Word
Chewing and meditating and focusing and listening
Reading.

The Word, Friends.

The Word,

Bernadette


Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Tucked In

Wash down the dust of living in words tonight.
Eyes closed and getting into the quiet with Him.
Alone with Jesus.
Favorite place on earth.

Sabbath rest.
Just sitting in His presence and...
Breathing.  And...
Listening for Him.

How many entries find us here?
Just He and I wrapped up together?
Held and washed and filled and comforted.
My soul restored.

Sigh,

Bernadette

Psalm 23:1-3

The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want.  He makes me lie down in green pastures.  He leads me beside still waters.  He restores my soul.

Sunday, April 7, 2013

When Your Daughter Believes You Can Fly

I spend most of the morning in bed with my face toward the wall.
Stomach ache.
Life ache.

I eat breakfast when my daughter asks me,
"Mom.  How is your heart?"
I swallow hard.

Turn my face toward the window so she can't see my eyes but...
She watches me intently.
Waiting and...

When did my little girl become a woman who asks such hard questions?
Heart questions.
Really?

I can't lie to her so I try to give it to her easy.
She probes hard.
And we talk it through.

She comes 'round the table and takes me in her arms.
She anoints my head with kisses and...
She calls me "brave."

She lays a new runner on the table for me.
She puts an orchid down by my plate.
And a yellow coffee cup overflowing with chocolates I can't eat.

Looks like Jesus setting a table for me in front of my enemies, yes?
In front of my stomach aches and my auto-immune disease.
In front of the wall that must daily be climbed.

She places a paper weight just there.
It has a picture of a bird wearing a crown.
My daughter sees me with wings and...

There is just enough strength for the day.

Bernadette

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; 
you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.  Psalm 23:5


Saturday, April 6, 2013

Come, Lord Jesus

Friends.
Are you weary?
Are you worn?
Shoes bare soled?
Soul bared?
Are you carrying the weight?
Of your lost hopes?
Dreams?
Are you?
Slumped in despair and finding it...
Impossible to live with out joy?
Finding it hard to just...
Get out of your bed?
Are you the living dead?

Remember now.

He loves you, and...
You are His darling one.
He will never leave you or forsake you.
You can trust Him, you abandoned hearts out there.
You can trust this Jesus.

He is Love, Friends.
His heart is for you.
We like to call it "ALL IN."
That's right.
Jesus is ALL IN for you.

His presence, the safest place on earth.
Holy sanctuary.
A heavenly place to find His dreams for you.
To discover His hopes for your life.
And to know...
He is the great resuscitating God.

Oh, Breath of Life...
Breathe on Your precious people tonight.
Revive their sagging souls, Oh God, and...

Come Quickly, Lord Jesus,

Bernadette


The Spirit of God has made me, and the breath of the Almighty gives me life.  Job 33:4



Friday, April 5, 2013

Love Song

When they were small.
( And sometimes still.)
I would sit on their beds and sing.
Voice cracking and throat sore.
Always sore.
Sweet lullabies.
While tracing their faces with my fingers.
Stroking their hair.

And when I first came across that verse in Zephania:

"For the LORD your God is living among you.  He is a mighty savior.  He will take delight in you with gladness.  With His love, He will calm all your fears.  He will rejoice over you with joyful songs."  3:17

I let my imagination run wild.

The God of the universe.

He is living among us.  He is mighty to save.  He takes delight in His kids, and He calms ALL our fears with His love.  And... He rejoices over us with joyful songs.

Oh...perhaps Wendy will share her journal entry sometime about this verse?

I remember travelling down the road with my family when I was growing up, and how my dad would sing "Let Me Call You Sweetheart" with a voice that sent shivers down my arms.

But my Father in heaven singing joyful songs over me?  Over us?  Over you?

Just needing to turn in for the night now, but can I invite you to close your eyes and trust that He is singing over you?  Sweet lullabies, perhaps?  Songs of deliverance and freedom and grace?

Love songs, friends.

Love songs,

Bernadette

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

On Her Birthday

Okay...so I know we just had a conversation about public declarations and all, but here...I couldn't help it.  Everyone should know that there is a person like you out there on the planet, and this is my hope offering to anyone out there who has given up on having friends...

Dear HT1,

Thank you for helping me.
Thank you for seeing me.
Thank you for good questions, even the ones that make me feel like barfing.
Thanks that you are an elbow, but that you wear pads on them for me.
Thank you for being gentle.
Thanks that you laugh at my dumb jokes, and that you think I can be funny.
Thank you for showing me how to do life better.
Thanks for being more YOU.
Thank you for your big heart.
Thank you for the sound of your voice.
Thanks for the phone...yes...  the phone, Praise God!
Thank you for my nickname.
Thank you for challenging me.
Thank you that you're beautiful.
Thank you that nobody does "secret agent" like you do.
Thank you for building an army.
Thanks for being loyal.
Thanks for working so hard for your company and for your friends.
Thanks for ultimate fears, tears, and victories.
Thanks for understanding lions and gazelles.
Thanks for putting it all out there.
Thanks for showing me how.
Thank you for being a great friend.
Thank you for being born.

Happy Birthday to my precious friend.  I wish the whole world could know you!

With love,

HT2

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

When You Miss Your Son

When you miss your son.

You must hold fast.

The steady mast of that old rugged cross.

And you must cling through tears and ridiculous desires to make him small again.

You must let him go.

You know...

Wind and wings and all.

Because...

He must fly or die trying.

And you, Mama, must wait it out.

On your knees, Mama.

Alone with Jesus, Mama.

Waiting desperately.

Deliberately.


When you miss your son,

Bernadette

Monday, April 1, 2013

BOWED

I must bow my life.
Kiss the feet of a Saving God.
Break the jar of everything I thought was good about me.
Pour it over His toes.
And mingle the mess of  what I think to be my moral "decency"
With tears because...
What can I offer this perfect Jesus?
What in all the world can I bring a Savior?
A Savior Who took my murdering, adulterous, idolatrous heart?
And had it nailed clean through His hands into wood?
A Savior Who said, "It is finished."
A Savior Who said, "I love you this way."
Someone tell me.
What can I bring?
What can I bring to a God Who loves His Son?
And sends His Son?
To have His precious feet hammered down?
With spikes that have my name on them?
Oh, Jesus.
Here...
I pour out myself, Lord.
I give you all my brokenness and shame and guilt and...sin.
I kiss your feet and my hair pools in the dirt.
I give you my body, and my mind, and my soul.
I bow my whole life to You, my Jesus.
I give You all this mess.
I give You all of me, and...
I love You.
Take me if You will, and use me if You can.
But let me stay in Your presence always.

Bowed,

Bernadette