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Archive for February, 2009

Here he is again, quite near the beginning of this piece. But SO cool anyway even if Dad wasn’t in it, the tunnel has broken through. Genius. If you like that sort of thing. I am ridiculously proud of my Dad, he, like, manages this project. I can’t even comprehend sorting out something so big. Go look and wonder at what we can do as humans.

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Pretty.

I’m currently pondering the content of blog posts and the wisdom of disclosure in such an abstract context. (can you tell I’ve been to L’abri recently?) I think the answer is more thinking, ‘why I am posting this?’, before I post. More questions such as: Am I communicating something I should really communicate to an actual person instead? Am I disclosing too much? Do I love the control and impersonality of this medium a little too much? Am I writing to impress? Am I writing to chastise someone I should really just talk to?

Posting here can build relationship or quickly become an idol factory, it can be creative or create a weird version of me. There are dangers and joys to using pretty much anything I think. But you know, I still love this space to plonk things I love, quotes I like and wibbly random thoughts. But I need to be wise. I find that hard. So. With more care. Blogging resumes. (Even if it’s just to give Mum something to read in the day..) Watch the pretty video. Watch.

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“Most of us are crawling about in a stuffy attic, trying to explain life, demanding to be right, doing our best to relieve pain, and wondering where God is.  It is time to find our way back to the living room  and into our Father’s arms, where we can listen to his Spirit tell the story of Christ.”

“The world is too bad a place – and far too uncertain- to build a home and count on enjoying it. But it’s a perfect place to find God.”

Both from Larry Crabb- Finding God.

That last quote feels especially real tonight. In a world covered in snow, the white perfect beauty covering over the dark, we heard a story of  brokenness and pain. The contrasts in this world are sometimes too much to bear. There is so much pain, how can we carry on? There is so much beauty how can we still breathe?

Breathless we stand and wait, breathless we realise again that this world is not our home. Breathless we wait, seeking the touch of Another in our lives, echoing through the silent streets of white beauty draws our hearts to more and we ache. We stand breathless and we ache.

Come Lord Jesus. Come.

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