That's His Name.
well, one of them, anyway.
It means HEALER.
Many people know Him by this name in particular. I know Him by this name, as He healed my heart and made it whole again.
But hearts are not the only things He heals. I watched this today and wept at the goodness of a God who does the impossible every day.
Rejoice with me as He does miracles and stretches out His hand all around us...
He'll heal you too. Maybe not in the way you expect, but He will.
Showing posts with label HCF. Show all posts
Showing posts with label HCF. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Sunday, February 3, 2008
A Life of Sundays.
Today was a most wonderful day. Not because I bungee jumped, or I found five bucks, or I got a golden ticket on American Idol. Today was just a good day.
[Those have been hard to come by in the last few months.]
After my mom died, I missed celebrating just plain ol', regular, good Sundays because every Sunday that we spent together before she went to be with Jesus, after my church's service, we would come home, put our comfy cozys on and take a nap. Or mama and me would stay half-awake and talk in her bed as we drifted in and out of sleep. Yes, I am proud to say that sometimes I still slept in my mom's bed even after it was "age-appropriate" to do so. I can't even describe how thankful I am for those beautiful moments now. We talked about everything from how to be a Godly woman to the events of the week to boys to family issues and all that was in between.
Since her death, Sundays have not been the same. It's been difficult to think about facing yet another week without her. And although I like to think that sometimes I am brave, when I think about facing a life of Sundays without her, I don't feel so brave anymore.
But God is faithful and He is the One giving me strength to face each Sunday without my biggest fan and cheerleader.
And today He gave me such a gift. A good Sunday.
First of all, I heard from the Lord on two big decisions this weekend, and both of them were confirmed at church this morning. [more on that later...] Then I headed to Bicknell where I discovered that my love's vote went well (see previous post...) and he is now officially the Senior Pastor at FBC Bicknell, shepherding a community of people I love a little more every day.
As if those things weren't enough, I went out to lunch with some delightful people. There is nothing like sharing a meal, being silly, and learning people by heart.
It just kept getting better.
But my favorite part of the day were the little, mundane, regular things that Seth and I did today. We spent some of the afternoon "cleanting" with Caedmon's Call's best album blaring as we sang along. We also collaborated on carpet and paint choices for the sweet parsonage Seth will be living in soon. And he helped me develop a graphic for the retreat. (More on that later.)
But the best of all was Seth and I laughing and talking and hanging out with all of our "shenanigans and tomfoolery" (as Matt Orth calls it.). Then I got to come home and watch a couple of my favorite Grey's episode with my dear Jami.
The everyday things of this Sunday all contributed to make it so wonderfully special in its' simplicity.
And I keep thinking, although life is different now, a life of Sundays like this one are something I can definitely look forward to.
[Those have been hard to come by in the last few months.]
After my mom died, I missed celebrating just plain ol', regular, good Sundays because every Sunday that we spent together before she went to be with Jesus, after my church's service, we would come home, put our comfy cozys on and take a nap. Or mama and me would stay half-awake and talk in her bed as we drifted in and out of sleep. Yes, I am proud to say that sometimes I still slept in my mom's bed even after it was "age-appropriate" to do so. I can't even describe how thankful I am for those beautiful moments now. We talked about everything from how to be a Godly woman to the events of the week to boys to family issues and all that was in between.
Since her death, Sundays have not been the same. It's been difficult to think about facing yet another week without her. And although I like to think that sometimes I am brave, when I think about facing a life of Sundays without her, I don't feel so brave anymore.
But God is faithful and He is the One giving me strength to face each Sunday without my biggest fan and cheerleader.
And today He gave me such a gift. A good Sunday.
First of all, I heard from the Lord on two big decisions this weekend, and both of them were confirmed at church this morning. [more on that later...] Then I headed to Bicknell where I discovered that my love's vote went well (see previous post...) and he is now officially the Senior Pastor at FBC Bicknell, shepherding a community of people I love a little more every day.
As if those things weren't enough, I went out to lunch with some delightful people. There is nothing like sharing a meal, being silly, and learning people by heart.
It just kept getting better.
But my favorite part of the day were the little, mundane, regular things that Seth and I did today. We spent some of the afternoon "cleanting" with Caedmon's Call's best album blaring as we sang along. We also collaborated on carpet and paint choices for the sweet parsonage Seth will be living in soon. And he helped me develop a graphic for the retreat. (More on that later.)
But the best of all was Seth and I laughing and talking and hanging out with all of our "shenanigans and tomfoolery" (as Matt Orth calls it.). Then I got to come home and watch a couple of my favorite Grey's episode with my dear Jami.
The everyday things of this Sunday all contributed to make it so wonderfully special in its' simplicity.
And I keep thinking, although life is different now, a life of Sundays like this one are something I can definitely look forward to.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
The Gospel According to Fisher-Price
Once a month I spend time with the best preachers I know.
They don't say a whole lot, and if they do talk, sometimes I can't understand it. Here's the thing: sometimes I have to wipe their noses or help them use the restroom.
Often I dry their tears and reassure them that mommy's coming after Pastor Maury gets finished teaching her.
Yes, I am a proud nursery worker.
And yes, the sticky fingers of three-year-olds point me to Jesus. How? There are many ways.
For example, Isaac, a delightful two-year-old, came bounding up to me, smiled, and said "Wet's Pway!" That was a means of grace to me. No one else gave me a 50-watt smile when I walked into the building my church meets in. (I am not saying that my church isn't friendly. They are. Isaac was just the friendliest today.)
Then there is Ava. She is fiercely independent (reminds me of myself...) and loves her blankie. Ava is always the first to blaze a new trail and try something new. She isn't afraid of anything. That's how I long to live.
I could tell story after story about different instances about God teaching me things through these beautiful children. Lessons I've learned about selfishness, self-control (Ava snuck a doughnut that was bigger than her and little did she know, she was going to Mi Pueblo after church...sad day), faithfulness (Ethan let me read a whole book to him today even though i sure he was past his attention span), and how to really love people.
So even when they get out the tambourine and the pretend piano and it's [loudly, hello--kids are loud, deal with it] beautiful, I smile because their offering of praise is sometimes FAR more than what I give.
They don't say a whole lot, and if they do talk, sometimes I can't understand it. Here's the thing: sometimes I have to wipe their noses or help them use the restroom.
Often I dry their tears and reassure them that mommy's coming after Pastor Maury gets finished teaching her.
Yes, I am a proud nursery worker.
And yes, the sticky fingers of three-year-olds point me to Jesus. How? There are many ways.
For example, Isaac, a delightful two-year-old, came bounding up to me, smiled, and said "Wet's Pway!" That was a means of grace to me. No one else gave me a 50-watt smile when I walked into the building my church meets in. (I am not saying that my church isn't friendly. They are. Isaac was just the friendliest today.)
Then there is Ava. She is fiercely independent (reminds me of myself...) and loves her blankie. Ava is always the first to blaze a new trail and try something new. She isn't afraid of anything. That's how I long to live.
I could tell story after story about different instances about God teaching me things through these beautiful children. Lessons I've learned about selfishness, self-control (Ava snuck a doughnut that was bigger than her and little did she know, she was going to Mi Pueblo after church...sad day), faithfulness (Ethan let me read a whole book to him today even though i sure he was past his attention span), and how to really love people.
So even when they get out the tambourine and the pretend piano and it's [loudly, hello--kids are loud, deal with it] beautiful, I smile because their offering of praise is sometimes FAR more than what I give.
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