how faint a whisper

glimpses of God in a heaven-crammed earth

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days of small things


give me eyes for the small things
and in them to see
Your likeness and
Your desire and
Your blessings
but to need them not for any of these
but only for the reason that
You have seen fit to call them good
for me
and for Your glory

put my hands to the plow
not of usefulness
but of beloved-ness
in that to rest
in that to work
sowing seeds of Kingdom fruit
at times in joy, at times with tears
who I am defined in Your righteousness
not in my sowing
not in evidence of growth

let me believe that what I take in
matters eternally
the life giving Word
the glory of creation
the intention of relationship
scream of Your grace and, by that pursuit filled,
lesser desires are emptied, that I may
hold my peace and
find my life
in faithful days of small things

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looking behind

“You say grace before meals
All right.
But I say grace before the play and the opera,
And grace before the concert and the pantomime,
And grace before I open a book,
And grace before sketching, painting,
Swimming, fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing;
And grace before I dip the pen in the ink.”

G.K. Chesterton, From an Early Notebook

I love these words. Grace. A friend and I set out to write a song about grace once, a number of years ago, and found ourselves quickly stalled. Not because we didn’t know what to say, but because there was too much to say, and too much of it inexpressible. We didn’t know how to say it. Continue reading