He is integral to our ability to abide in a life with our Lord, because even when we are facing the wrong way, he enables us to move in the right direction. The nutrients of life found in the truth that he presses into the fibers of our hearts are not randomly discovered, but purposefully whispers and watered… it is why it is accurate to say that he dwells within us. In our most desperate moments we could no sooner escape the presence of the Holy Spirit than we could stop the flow of blood in our veins without dying.
He sees value where we see poverty. He sees success where we see struggles, he glorifies what we often ignore, condemns what we often worship, invites when we feel unworthy. He is unimpressed with and undistracted by shallow formality and consistently engages with clarity of vision into the person’s heart before him.
We are a people who are invited to encounter God. Available here the STAR resource; to prompt intentional & strategic engagement with truth.
Ceaseless awareness is a beautiful way to live. But in those moments when we need rest, when we need to plow a particularly gargantuan field; let’s listen to the invitation we’re offered.
I can think of few gifts more powerful than to know there is an unwavering love that does not hinge on moment by moment valuations of an offering, or even calculated chemistry, but a steadfastness of love that endures.
I think perhaps we look with scrutiny (realized or not) at the promises God makes. We narrow our eyes and say, “do I believe that?”
It has been an interesting week. It’s easy to discuss the lives of those who live public controversy. But we’ve all played the role of defendant. We all need an advocate.
You carry a gifted treasure. Something he delights in giving us though our bodies waste away, inwardly he renews day by day. So that when we are many in years, and cannot move with liquid grace, there is something under all the sore bones and wrinkled flesh, that far outweighs any semblance of strength we ever had at our best.
I just got back from Dallas about a week ago. I had planned to attend the IF conference, and my 7 husband decided it was a perfect opportunity to escape the grind of our normal routines, and take winter break in the middle of nowhere — also known as Point, TX. It was gloriously still. Beautifully quiet. Except for the coyotes… they were loud. But the point is that going into this conference my heart was rested, stilled, and ready to listen.
Etched into the inside cover of my Mamaw’s old Bible are some faded words in shaky cursive. Nothing else claims any space on that otherwise blank page, as though THIS thought were what she wanted front and center. As though this thought were one she allowed no other...