Tag: god

The Temporal in Light of the Eternal

James HoganLeave a comment

Wherefore, in all these things, be persuaded sometimes to have an eye to Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith. Behold how he is set before us in the gospel, poor, despised, reproached, persecuted, nailed to the cross, and all by this world. Whatever be your designs and aims, let his cross continually interpose between your affections and this world. If you are believers, your hopes are within a few days to be with him forevermore.

Unto him you must give an account of yourselves, and what you have done in this world. Will it be acceptable with him to declare what you have saved of this world, what you have gained, what you have preserved and embraced yourselves in, and what you have left behind you? Was this any part of his employment and business in this world? Hath he left us an example for any such course? Wherefore, no man can set his affections on things here below who hath any regard unto the pattern of Christ, or is in any measure influenced with the power and efficacy of his cross. “My love is crucified,” said a holy martyr of old: he whom his soul loved was so, and in him his love unto all things here below.

Do you, therefore, find your affections ready to be engaged unto, or too much entangled with, the things of this world? Are your desires of increasing them, your hopes of keeping them, your fears of losing them, your love unto them and delight in them, operative in your minds, possessing your thoughts and influencing your conversations?

-turn aside a little, and by faith contemplate the life and death of the Son of God; a blessed glass will it be, where you may see what contemptible things they are which you perplex yourselves about. Oh, that any of us should love or esteem the things of this world, the power, riches, goods, or reputation of it, who have had a spiritual view of them in the cross of Christ!


-John Owen, Vol 7, page 399

All The Strings

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A lovely morning thus far. About to drive off to church, but grateful for a few minutes now to meditate and muse on what most brings me hope and joy. This morning woke up and went for a walk, enjoying(??) the humidity and heat that is standard fare for August here. Still yet, it was a beautiful time of walking and thinking and watching all the people on their early morning runs and dog-walks. Got to chat with Dad for a few minutes on the return leg and then back I arrived at home, sweaty and pleasantly weary. Now I’m all showered up and have had a lovely few minutes reading as a new candle burns and a symphony plays on the TV. Within twenty minutes or so, shall step out the door and once more feel August’s warm affections as we leave for church. But now? Why am I just spinning my wheels talking about the mundanities of life? Well firstly because even the mundane every day tasks of life can be beautiful, can they not? I’m grateful for what my God has given me, even little things like walks and showers. Secondly? Because I do want to talk about deeper things but sometimes I feel I must approach them circumspectly as I’m at times uneasy of my skill to properly address that which matters most.

So now as the minutes flee and I soon will run out of time, I suppose I won’t say much more about what burns in my heart, except to say that I enjoyed some precious minutes reading in John today, some of my favourite verses. Reading about the trial and death of Jesus and then the response of some of his followers. Peter initially quavered and crumbled and denied his teacher. Others stood by him to the end even as they wept. Still others who had hidden their allegiance came out after his death to preserve and memorialize his body and his name. And then on that glorious day whose memory still reverberates in the heavens and the earth? Peter returned to his Lord and marveled at the fact that something had happened that he didn’t quite understand. John approached more cautiously but still yet he was there. And Mary? Oh Mary she was there at the beginning and at the end, as the men rushed around and in their haste rushed off again while she stayed behind at that garden tomb and wept and thought and I’m sure prayed. And then she saw something miraculous – angelic beings in all their brightness and she found herself overcome and in her sorrow and her wonder she heard a voice that said her name. And what response did she have? What response should any of have in such a circumstance? She rushed to Jesus and clung to Him, crying as she held on tight. Oh how I wish I could cling to the feet of Jesus and hear him speak to me as he spoke to Mary that day. Some day, some day soon. Even though I have not seen him, I believe in Him and joy unspeakable fills my heart and I glory in the fact that someday my eyes shall see his face.

Grace

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Hello friends! A few quick words this Thursday morning before I dash off to the land of work. It’s not quite 6am though, so I do have a few minutes and I’m grateful for the time to sit and read and meditate as I sip on my coffee here.

What have I been thinking about? The mind whirls with all that modern life seemingly demands. The earth groans and weeps, the daily news is full of horror and it seems as if civilization itself is on the brink. What are we to do? Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die. Let us satisfy ourselves with whatever we can find about us. Not much hope in the morrow, so let’s enjoy today. Either we drown ourselves in the sorrows and anxieties of this present life or we drown ourselves with the distractions that take us far from it. Either option works, depending on your predilection and temperament. Yet are those really the only two options? Not if we consider our underlying assumptions and correct the framework from which we see life itself. If this world is all there is and there is no life beyond the veil and no Creator to consider, perhaps it matters not what we do now. Make a choice and stick to it. Do your thing. Eat, love, laugh. You only live once. You know the drill. Yet.

As you’ve noticed, I’ve tilted the argument one way, prepared to springboard into what I do believe is true. What if there is a beyond? What if there is a quivering reality waiting beyond the fog of this present life? I’m not saying that this present life is any less real or that we should go seclude ourselves in preparation for a life to come. May it never be – this life is real and there are many wonderful things in it, things that are good and proper to enjoy. Yet. If we have a future hope, perhaps consider such? If we are not alone after all, if there is a God who made all things and desires communion with us, should we so quickly and easily turn our backs on that which we do not fully understand?

This God I believe in is one in whom I’ve put my trust and one who I believe is fully and utterly real in a way that we do not and perhaps never can truly understand. Yet I believe this same God came down to this earth as a man and condescended such so that we might know him truly. This man? Jesus Christ. Yes, of course I’ve been leading to this point the entire time. Jesus Christ is my hope and joy, my song and my salvation, the only way to God for He is God and is in Himself the fulfillment of all things. Now creation’s groans turn to song as the stars themselves shout for joy for the One who came to begin the process of renewal and reformation.

I turn to Jesus and fill my mind with thoughts of Him. I dwell on the truths of the historical reality of His coming to this earth and dying that I might live. I think on my sufferings and then I turn my thoughts and think on His. Jesus is beautiful to Me. I consider Jesus and the fact that He in Himself is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of the nature of God and upholds all things by the power of God and even so He has made purification for my sins so that I might be made right for God. I consider Jesus and my heart aches to be near Him. I think on my life now and count it loss and turn and follow Jesus.

I want to be where Jesus is. I serve and follow Jesus and look for the day when I gaze upon His face in glory. Jesus Christ is my hope and joy. What do I have in this life that compares? May all the little joys and pleasures of this world remind me of the joy that one day shall be mine as I sit and feast in the presence of Christ. May all the little pains and sufferings of this life remind me of the love that one day shall be mine as I sit at the feet of Jesus and cling to Him forever.

fifth row baptists

James HoganLeave a comment

Hello friends! A sleepy Sunday post is in order, methinks. And as matter of fact, I think this post shall be mostly just me rambling about books. Because of aforesaid mentioned sleepiness, I don’t think this shall be a long post. But as always, we shall see! Be well, one and all.

53. Thank You, Jeeves by PG Wodehouse. Absolutely fantastic. I have heard of Wodehouse and the Jeeves stories before, of course. I knew they were a part of the British literary canon that I was remiss in reading and that I would need to remedy such at some point. Thankfully, due to a fortuitous encounter in a remarkably well-stocked book section at a Goodwill, I decided it was time to read my first Wodehouse and this was it. I was not disappointed. The humour was top notch. Of course humour is subjective and I’m sure some would bounce off Wodehouse. For me though? Perfection. I wish I had half the wit and verve of Wodehouse – I’d read line after line of writing that simply crackled with absurd hilarity and wonder how on earth he managed it. If you like absurd off-the-wall ridiculousness married with near-perfect prose, I think you’d enjoy this. I know I did.

54. The Holiness of God by R.C. Sproul – A book that grabs you by the collar and simply won’t let go. I’ve read this once, many years before, and I recall how much this one gripped and shook me. Reading it again now, I marveled anew at the holiness, grandeur and glory of God. I am grateful for this book of Sproul’s, one that does not apologize for the God of the Bible, the God who is proclaimed in all its pages and of whom creation shouts in chorus. Sproul is unapologetic in ascribing a place to God that is far separate from the place reserved for the rest of creation. This book feels at times as if it was written in a time so different from our own, a time when the other-ness of God was not as alien a concept as it seems to be in this age in which we now live. Of course this book wasn’t written that long ago – 1985 – still yet it seems as if the God Sproul preaches would be anathema to the majority of so-called Christian teachers in this day and age.

We at times seem to spend all our time crafting a God that fits our idea of goodness, justice and love – a God that we feel comfortable with and whose ideals mirror our own. This is idolatry, pure and simple, and Sproul calls that out. He doesn’t quite wade into all the depths of ontology and epistemology, yet Sproul does ask that we cease from demanding that God can only be God if he fits our pre-conceived notions of what God ought to be. How often have we heard or uttered the phrase – “I could never worship a God who…” Instead of screaming our rights into the void, perhaps we ought ask the question – Is God real? And if so, who is He? And what is my response? This is spadework and not always comfortable. And I’m not saying Sproul is hand-holding us through this journey. Instead, Sproul simply and faithfully discusses the God of the Bible, the God as revealed in both specific and general revelation, and explains who this God is and why he is worthy of our worship.

At the end of the day, the way we live our life is governed by who we see God to be and who we see ourselves to be. And Sproul clearly and concisely draws back the curtain and shows us the tiniest of glimpses of the reality of the God who made all things. Sproul is just a man and all too fallible and so of course this book is not perfect. Yet it is one that drove me to my knees as I consider what it is that I live and breathe in a world made by a God so utterly holy that to gaze upon Him would utterly undo me. Who am I, a jar of clay and oh so foul and depraved? And yet also am I not one crafted in the image of this God I long to know? There’s a mystery there – how can I be made right and gain communion with this God who seems so far from me? Has God spoken to us and given us a way to be right with Him? The name that is above every name is spoken by my heart and I tremble. I raise my hands and drop any claims I have and bow the knee to the One who made all things. This book is one that I need to read again and again. God is God and I am not. Remember this. Remember this.

55. What Does It Mean to Fear the Lord? by Michael Reeves. A wonderful little pamphlet walking us through the concept of the “fear of the Lord”. This can be very confusing, to be sure. I’ve had conversations with people who refuse to believe that Christians should “fear the Lord”. And part of that is likely due to the inability of the English language to properly define this concept, this idea of trembling joy and awe and love that comes face to face with understanding who God is and what our proper response to Him is. This is a very little book, but Reeves does a masterful job of walking through what fear of God is, and what it isn’t. The fear of the Lord is not a cringing fear that drives us from God in our hatred of who he is. Instead, the proper fear of the Lord is a recognition of the nature of God and the proper response of humility and love that draws us closer to our God. I feel this is a ongoing thread in my reading of late but I shall state it again. God is God and I am not. Let us remember that, and as we understand ever more who God truly is, our fear of Him will be that fear which spurs on a delighted awe and love as we humbly bow before our Creator. A great little read, heartily recommended.

56. Theo of Golden by Allen Levi. This book frustrated me at times. There are some beautiful little moments and I greatly admired the themes of the author and what he attempted to point towards. It is rare to find a modern book which preaches such themes of Christian love and humility and it made me glad to see such praised in this book. There is also such a wonderful focus on the worth of every person and the idea that all of us have a story that is worth knowing. I was under the impression this was a secular book and was pleasantly surprised discovering the Christian themes that lay at this book’s core, even identifying Theo as a little Christ-figure and one who attempts to point us to that light, that fountain, that Jesus that is the only source of life and truth. Yet. Apart from all that, this book was a hard read at times. I admire the author’s aims, but the book wasn’t always an easy read, at times overly twee, at times overly artificial and manufactured. This felt like a book with too many cardboard cutouts, not enough real people. I often found myself struggling to make myself read a few more chapters. And the major revelation at the end of this book does some major damage to the book’s theme of selfless love for the other and make one wonder if the author truly realize that his attempts to tie up all loose ends into a tidy knot actually undercut some of the strongest themes of his tale. Ah well. I enjoyed parts of this book. Unfortunately the book wasn’t particularly well-written and I think at times the author spends too much time telling, not enough time showing. Maybe some people like the didactic hammering on the head. For me, not so much, even when I tend to agree with the author’s belief system. Main problem at the end of the day? The author’s skill was not quite up to snuff to tell the story he was attempting to tell. Still though, I admire the attempt.

Of Titles and Trophies Most Desired

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Humility, fortitude, faithfulness – are these yet prized virtues in this modern world? I think of what it is to sacrifice oneself for the good of another. While at times self-sacrifice may be lauded in a movie or on the written page, it is seen as something only necessary at the point of last resort. What does it mean to daily place others before oneself and daily kill the selfish desires that plague one so? This is slow, plodding work. One step after another, through the mud and with great effort and with the realization that quick results are most certainly not forthcoming. Instead it is the building of a foundation for a tower that one may never live to see. My metaphors begin to be mixed, I know. But I am weary. I wish that I could of a sudden see myself transformed into a beacon of blazing light, the journey complete, the road ended, my witness sure and complete. Do I point to someone beyond myself? I hope you see me and know for whom I stand – a disciple of Jesus Christ, a man in the gap, a watcher on the high tower. I fear that at times my jersey is a bit too muddy and that my actions are anything but honorable. Thankfully there are better clothes I have been given, a robe of righteousness not my own. Still yet I do strive for faithfulness. May those precious words someday be said of me, those words that I can at times scarce bear to imagine without tears filling my eyes. “Well done, my good and faithful servant.” For now, I walk forwards, even if at times at a bit of a zig-zag. The path goes ever on and on. I walk to the crest of the rise and see the grey of the sea spread out before my aching eyes. A gull wheels overhead. To either side, I see a multitude. I am not alone. The sky opens and a bright light and a trumpet sounds and I fall to my knees. One day all shall see. One day mine own eyes shall see. Behold the Lord of all the earth. Behold my Jesus.

Towards Dawn we March ever So Slowly

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Hello friends! A few words on a couple of books. I shall not be overly verbose this day, I swear.

51. The Wise Man’s Fear by Patrick Rothfuss. Oh Rothfuss. Leaving us hanging, are you? As I neared the ending of this one, I felt a few pangs of sorrow, knowing it is most unlikely we get a concluding book to this trilogy. Alas, but still I enjoyed reading this one, even knowing not all the questions shall be answered! I love how Rothfuss writes and this story continues Kvothe’s tale in all its glory and grandeur. I don’t like this one as much as the first book, perhaps partly because I feel this book stumbles a bit when Kvothe leaves the University. The first third or half of the book at the University is a delight to read, even if possibly it could have been drastically cut simply to move the plot along. The University portion really isn’t necessary to the story. But you know what? I don’t care. As someone who loves all the world-building in-between-filling prose of the Wheel of Time, I can’t hate the fact that Rothfuss takes time to simply show Kvothe’s continued growth at the University. My favourite parts are simply the times Kvothe is spending with his friends in all their ridiculousness. More of this. Less high drama please. I wrote a good bit more about the plot but then realised I really don’t want to summarize the whole book and erased all of it. At the end of the day, I do enjoy reading this one, but really don’t like how the author’s view of sex permeates the latter portions of this book and turn Kvothe into someone who it’s hard to root for. I’m much more on Denna’s side by the end of this, feeling a bit hurt and cast aside by the Kvothe she always felt she could count on. Still a beautiful story well told, even if he probably could have used a better editor to hustle along the plot. We may never get book 3, but at least we always have these first two. I honestly don’t really care about all the big questions – Chandrian, Amyr, Lockless box, Four-Plate Door, Kote/Kvothe mystery, etc. Honestly, I think Rothfuss shines most at the small moments – friends around a table at the tavern playing cards…music soaring through the air as Kvothe plays an old song and everyone sings along…Kvothe on a windy night gently conversing with a moon-bound girl. Rothfuss excels at these intimate scenes with characters you care about. I think Rothfuss should just tell Kvothe’s adventures at the University and forget all the rest of it. Would be a better tale, methinks.

52. The Trellis and the Vine by Colin Marshall & Tony Payne. This book is fine. I have had it on my shelf for a while and thought I may as well read through it. I confess I struggle with “church tactic” books and this one was no exception. I know such books and discussions are necessary. And there’s not really anything wrong with this book, per se. I think I just find myself wearied by books putting forth the newest, latest-greatest discovery of how to do church ministry right. I’m doing this book a disservice. The authors are humble and acknowledge the lineage of church-growth trends and fads and attempt to make it clear that due to the multiplicity of church locations, styles and cultures, it is certainly impossible to impose a one-size-fits-all approach on a local church. Still yet, the book at the end of the day doesn’t contain that much that is new. Yes, discipleship is crucial at a local level. Yes, future leaders and gifted contributors should be identified and encouraged. And I appreciate the authors making it clear that all growth in a church (both spiritual and numerical) depends on the grace and power of God. Of course God does use means and the authors are attempting to put forth a strategy of disciple-making that they feel best fits the New Testament context. But at times, it feels as if the authors are attempting to make the verses they cite say more than they actually do. Even so? This is not a bad book. It is important to remember that local churches should attempt to minister to the people in their midst and part of such will be raising up the next generation of leaders. There were a few times I felt uneasy and that the authors were almost implicitly giving permission for church leaders to ignore the weaker and less-than in favour of the “people to watch out for”. That’s not entirely fair and I do understand any leader has to make hard decisions on how to spend their time. Still yet? Books such as this just give me a little twinge of unease at times. I thank God for his work in the church and that whatever the latest trend du jour is, he will continue to build his church. We must not be passive ourselves and we must press forward to encourage and build up our fellow saints. But always and forever, we lean on our Lord Jesus Christ and worship Him. One of the best things a church leader can do is model what it means to be a follower of Jesus Christ and proclaim his beauty and majesty in ways that make it impossible for outsiders to ignore the strangeness and radicality of the church of God. I’m grateful for books such as this that attempt to highlight ways churches have found profitable to glorify Jesus Christ and make Him known. But just know there is no one cookie-cutter way, there is no one tactic that can be deployed blindly in all circumstances and find success. Only through ceaseless seeking of Christ and utter reliance on the Holy Spirit can we in faithful witness strive. We set our hands to the plow and we know we are not alone.

Seashore

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Good morning, friends! A Monday dawns and light breaks upon us in waves and soon the heat shall follow and we shall be reminded that yes indeed, summer is in full bloom. I wish I could say I’m grateful for summer’s heat but I don’t know if my gratitude for creation’s glory can stretch quite that far. Ah I suppose I could talk myself into it somehow. Summer is a good and proper season and the heat does make one sigh with wistful longing in anticipation for autumn’s arrival, so there is that. Summer – it’s here. July is a month that we know is going to be hot and that is that and no use complaining about it, so I shan’t.

But instead what I shall I use these few minutes before work to talk about? I don’t know, really. I opened this page knowing I had a few minutes so why not write something? I suppose I could say I’m just grateful for the time I had this morning to read the Word and meditate on God’s goodness to me. Even with not quite enough sleep last night (watching the scintillating England/Mexico game – England pulled out an all-time classic win in Mexico City – on the Lions!), I still was able to roll out of bed prior to 5am and get a shower, make coffee and then sit myself down and give myself some nice uninterrupted time to read.

Psalm 46, Proverbs 6, a series of depressing but inspired chapters in Jeremiah – oh how convicting it is to read such and oh how it makes me feel I ought be praying more for mercy for myself and our community and nation – and then beautiful chapters in Luke on the ministry of our Lord Jesus Christ. Got to read Luke 7 and the story of Jesus with the woman who was a sinner. One of my all-time favourite passages and one that never fails to bring me to a halt as I consider and ponder what my Lord has done for me. Oh how beautiful it is to think on the fact that Jesus has forgiven me all my sin. I have been forgiven much. I have been forgiven everything!! How great then ought be my love? Utterly convicting to feel how often my love is cold and dry and how often I fail to be constantly praising my Lord and God for what he has done for me. I need to spend more time meditating on the wonder that is my salvation and my forever communion with my God. What a glorious thing it is to consider that I am a child of God. I have life with God and I have it to the full. I abide in Christ and in him I find true rest. This yoke is indeed easy, this burden is indeed light. In Christ and in Christ alone do I have rest for my soul. It is good to sit at the feet of Jesus this day. Oh how I long for that someday far off trumpet call and that moment when the horizon blurs with light as I see the last dawning and behold the consummation of all things as creation is made new. Oh how I long for that day when the sky quivers and the clouds break and my Lord Jesus Christ stands before my resurrected frame. For now, I tremble in dust and ashes. Someday though, I shall see my Lord with my own eyes, even though now my flesh and my heart are oh so prone to failing. Thank you, Lord, for taking me by the hand each and every moment. Please Lord, lead me to glory.

Father’s Day

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Happy Sunday, friends! Hope you are having a most wonderful day wherever on the world you find yourselves at the moment. I very quickly will be transitioning into reading time here since I just realized it’s already past 5pm, but I wanted to write a few words first. Because besides being the height of summer (well, at least the longest day of the year and the point at which I realize that yes, summer is here), it is also Father’s Day! And so thought I’d write a few words about my dad – yes here in a public forum and all. I mean, I write enough about myself that I suppose it shouldn’t be surprising.

How do I start? I’m grateful to have a dad that I love talking to every day. I am now past my 39th birthday and headed to my 40th (which is strange to think on), yet still one of the highlights of my day is in the morning (almost always around 7am or so) when he calls or I call and we chat for a few minutes about life and sundry. It may be about sports or food or family or politics or Scripture or random life drama. It may be for only a minute or two or it may be ten. But nonetheless, it is always oh so much a joy just to get a few minutes chatting to Dad. I treasure these moments much. Because alas, we do not live nearby and it’s only a few times a year that we actually get time together in person, so of course our phone time is precious.

But that’s just current state. I look back at my life and while I could spend far too much time talking about various moments of my life and the people that impacted me, it would not be surprising for me to say that one of the people who’s impacted me the most throughout the course of my life has been my dad. I of course have memories of all the fun things we did together as I grew up – going to baseball games in Baltimore, playing football in the park, going to the beach for vacation and playing all kinds of random games, so many cards games! – but those aren’t the memories I hold the fondest. No indeed, I think on the life my dad lived and the example he has given me. I remember growing up how he prioritized his walk with the Lord – this walking being both literal and metaphorical! – and I remember how he talked about God in such a way that I had no doubt God was real. I remember the deliberate time he took to go outside and walk in the woods and pray to God almost every day when we were small. I remember how he made it a point of focus to lead my family in Bible-reading and singing and prayer almost every evening before we went to bed. At times I’m sure I wasn’t excited about it or didn’t truly understand all that was going on. Yet one thing I did get. It was important to spend time meditating on God’s word and worshipping him in spirit and truth. I had no doubt that my dad loved God mightily. I had no doubt that the faith of my dad was real.

But yes, even as I got older I made the realization all kids someday make. Wait…my dad isn’t actually perfect, is he? Yet even that was a lesson to me. I saw how Dad leaned on the Lord and cried out to him and made God his support and strength even in his very own weakness. I witnessed my Dad’s utter reliance on God in the valley of the shadow of death and his steadfastness even when life was ever so hard. I think of one word when I think of my dad – faithfulness. Throughout the travails of this life, he pressed on to know the Lord and be faithful in the day to day. Oh that has been an inspiration to me and even now it is something I often think on. I have no desire for great things in my own life. I simply want to be faithful to my God no matter what comes. My parents had many trials and tribulations they passed through (and are still passing through!) yet I witnessed my dad’s faithfulness to His Lord throughout. My dad spent the last twenty-six years of his ministry as a pastor of a small church and times were not always easy or fun in this ministry. Still yet? Dad was faithful in the strength of the Lord. And beyond that? I witnessed his love. I sometimes fear my own love is cold and not what it should be and I cry out to God to soften my heart. For I remember the example of Dad and how he loved others – he loved the weak and the downtrodden and the poor, the people in this world who most would despise and think little of. My dad loved them in real and tangible ways, with time, money & emotional energy, seeking day in and day out to show the love of Christ to those people around him who needed it. Oh that I might model such in my own life, loving others as I put their needs before my own!

And wrapping this up, as I know I have written too much already. I see the love Dad has for my mom and for us his children. Even now as I seek to love my own wife, I remember how Dad loves Mom and puts her needs and wants before his own and how he does all he can to protect, honour, love and cherish her in the mundane of the day to day. Oh if I could love Dani only a fraction as well as Dad loves Mom, I’ll be grateful!! And I see how Dad loves us his children. Yes, he loved us in raising and providing for us and giving us fun times. But also? He loved us in disciplining us and training us in the way in which we should go, teaching us the things of the Lord and mightily modeling what it is to be a child of God. He showed us true humility, what it means to be a servant of all. Dad showed me that only through daily going to the Lord in His Word and in prayer would we truly be able to thrive and rejoice in the trials of the everyday. Even now, as I seek to read the Word each and every day in the knowledge of how much it benefits my soul, I thank God that he gave me such an earthly father, one who points to my heavenly father.

Yes, I know that Dad isn’t perfect. He’s a man, after all. Yet by the grace of God, he’s a redeemed man, one who God chose and blessed and called in ministry to serve him all the rest of his days. And so as I think on my own life and recognize my own follies and frailties, I thank God for the gift of my earthly father and how God has used him to bless me so. I thank God that through him, I am reminded of what it is to be a man of God. I lean on my Lord in quiet desperation and in fervent hope look above to what is to come, that day when we shall be with the Lord and see his face. I know that this too is what Dad longs for. We look to that day when we will be in the presence of our heavenly father and we worship together as brothers, forever.

Thanksgiving

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Around the table our voices raise as we sing before we pray. It’s a tradition that some may deride as old fashioned yet for us it stirs our souls and feels only right to worship as we start this feast that’s set before us. Our voices align in unity of purpose even with the voices that are dropped to sound in harmony. My eyes close as the last notes rise and fall and then resolve and then the amen sounds as is only proper when the doxology is sung. Then without even a word being said we raise our hands and join them together. I feel hers in mine and she squeezes slightly. And then my sister on the other side grabs mine and holds it lightly. And we bow our heads and then my father prays to the father of us all. There is thanks given and praise raised and of course mention made of each one of us that around that table stands and of the blessings that have rained down innumerable upon us. I sigh in my heart and let my own prayer rise silent but no less fervent to the invisible heights above where the risen one sits at the right hand of glory. The prayer goes on but only for a few more ticks of the clock, for of course while prayer is good, so is eating and to be sure it’s best to eat while the food is still hot. The amen sounds again and this time we turn to each other and smile and drop hands and pull our chairs back and sit with more or less commotion depending on who is sitting next to who. And then right when my fork is dug in and the perfect bite is about to be raised there’s a voice that pierces through. What about a toast she says? And though a part of me wants to just take a bite, I cannot say a word against so I take my glass of crimson red and raise it high and say my piece. Glory glory to our King. No matter what comes and no matter who goes, no matter the waves and no matter the storm, it is good for us to rest in the peace that comes with knowing our Lord. It is good for us to be here together in this place.

Breakfast

James HoganLeave a comment

Hello friends and happy Friday! It’s been a bit and thought I’d bring back that old classic – an early morning pre-work post! Not promising I’ll say anything profound of course, just thought I’d dash out a few lines and say hello. I’m ever so grateful for a work-from-home day this Friday. Been a busy past few days at the office and so to have a day at home today is truly a joy. Already about done with my first cup of coffee and thinking it’s almost time to brew my second. But right now, enjoying a few quiet moments of peace.

It is good to be still and silent and meditate on life and all that has come before and all that now is and all that is yet to be. At times I feel we can be oh so busy dashing between this errand and that appointment and this event and that outing that we have no time to reflect and ponder. I confess that is not usually my weakness – some could say I have too much time to think and write! Yet I would still argue that we do such a good job filling our time that there is not those in between spaces that are so valuable to the health and growth of our own minds and souls. Those in between spaces are when our minds wander down those little paths and think thoughts that may turn out to be ever so fruitful. Of course not always. Sometimes we let our minds dance into thickets and briar patches that are not quite as amenable to our thriving! But still the point stands that we need to be careful how we are filling our time. Or how we are allowing our time to be filled. Even think of that ever present quite helpful device the phone. When we are at the store in line or in the elevator or just on the couch trying to read…how often do we pull out the phone on autopilot idly scrolling away at whatever the algorithm has decided to present to us that moment? And so we allow our minds to be filled and occupied by much that is not ideal. I am attempting to be more purposeful on what I think on. Ought we not think on what is good and true and lovely and meditate more on the real and beautiful instead of letting our minds pick at the vacuous fripperies that are shoved our way?

So today let’s think on the beautiful. I want to ponder how much I have been blessed and meditate on the God who made me and all things. I want to think more of Christ and the beauties contained in his work and word and all the glories he has brought me as he bought me with the blood he shed oh so many years ago. I want to think on that greater story that makes all else fade as I consider the solidity and reality of the fact that I am a child of God. What a wonder it is to consider the anchor that holds me fast as I know I am held and loved by the God who calls my name. Though too often I fear the storms of life and let anxiety fill my heart as I wonder what is to come, I need not fear. The storms may howl and the winds may wail yet no matter all the water that slops in the boat, I am confident that this boat in which I sit will never sink and that it will never run aground. Only someday I look forward to when we land on that far shore and I step out on the beach with heart exultant, eager for a good breakfast of fish and toast and communion with the one for whom my heart longs. Now we know in part – one day we shall know fully just as we are fully known. Peace and love, my friends. Peace and love.