A Change of Location

To all who might happen upon this page again after such a long silence....due to a certain event, and its subsequent change upon my name, I've decided to start afresh with a new-ish blog. Nothing is on the page yet, but I thought I'd post something here to make it semi-official. Maybe it'll force me to write something again. 

http://gracevwright.blogspot.com/

Much love,

-Grace

Covenant

Our hidden bundle of selves

 is being woven into a three-chord strand

 round eyes, heart, and hand

 slowly unknotted, plucked, and wound

 tethered now, to you I am bound

 alive, waiting not on shelves.

'But [she] treasured all these things in her heart.'

'The Lord has done this,

     and it is marvelous in our eyes.

This is the day the Lord has made;

     let us rejoice and be glad in it.'

Hope Deferred.

'The shore you left is just as distant, and there is no going back; there is only the decision to paddle in place or stop, slide out of the hatch and sink into the sea. Maybe there's another story at the bottom of the sea. Maybe you don't have to be in this story anymore.

It's been like this with all my crossings....I think this is when most people give up on their stories. They come out of college wanting to change the world, wanting to get married, wanting to have kids and change the way people buy office supplies. But they get into the middle and discover it was harder than they thought. They can't see the distant shore anymore, and they wonder if their paddling is moving them forward. None of the trees behind them are getting bigger. They take it out on their spouses, and they look for an easier story....

It's like this with every crossing, and with nearly every story too. You paddle until you no longer believe you can go any farther. And then suddenly, well after you thought it would happen, the other shore starts to grow, and it grows fast. The trees get taller and you can make out the crags in the cliffs, and then the shore reaches out to you, to welcome you home, almost pulling your boat to the sand.' 

(Donald Miller, Million Miles in a Thousand Years)

Tonight, I'm finding it hard to trust. Faith is drained and joy has run off with the sun. I want to shout out, 'SERIOUSLY???!?!?! Seriously.' I'm tired of hope deferred. I'm tired of tears. Please, I beg, can this fight be over?

Do you ever feel like there's a shore you've been trying to reach for a long time - months, maybe years? Does it seem to be alluding your every attempt? Yeah. I'm with you. 

I read verses like this in the morning, yet by evening their encouragement seems to have departed, 'Keep me safe, O God, for in You I take refuge....Lord, You have assigned me my portion and my cup; You have made my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance.' (Psalm 16)....

Then I force myself to look up to the face, from which the gentle voice is emanating. And I see the nail scarred hands reaching out to me....speaking of Your capacity to love, your ability to hold steadfast.  

You, Jesus, are my inheritance, and that is why it's delightful. Not because my life is working out how I think it should, not because I'm getting married this year, not because the sun has been out in Edinburgh. And that is why it can be delightful when the promises You've spoken seem to be delayed, when the hope is deferred, when the light seems dim, when my own inadequacies feel great. 

'I will praise the Lord, who counsels me;

even at night my heart instructs me.

I have set the Lord always before me.

Because He is at my right hand,

I will not be shaken.'

(Psalm 16)

My future is secure in His hands. 

Before All Ages.

'To Him who is able to keep you from stumbling 

       and to present you before His glorious presence 

    without fault and with great joy - to the only God our Saviour 

  be glory, majesty, power, and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, 

        before all ages, now and forevermore! Amen.'

                                             Jude 1:25-6

I think God's grace is a lot bigger than I make it out to be. 

A Story's End.

Well, my week long plunge into the world of daily blogging has drawn to a close. It's been....a challenge. A challenge to actually write down (in a semi-public place) what goes on in this wee head of mine. Instead of just squirreling it away in the pages of my journal. So thanks for taking all these trains with me! :)

It always amazes me the paths of thought that God takes me on, through my days. Marriage. A wedding feast. I recently read this incredible article on marriage. It's short, and well worth the read. And it got me thinking....

In the beginning was a wedding, for God determined that it was not good for us to be alone. That we, as the very pictures of His being, should be joined together as one - just as He is One. 

The end of The Story? A wedding feast. 

'Then I heard what sounded like a great multitude, like the roar of rushing waters and like loud peals of thunder, shouting: 

"Hallelujah!

For our Lord God Almighty reigns.

   Let us rejoice and be glad

   and give Him glory!

For the wedding of the Lamb has come,

   and His bride has made herself ready.

Fine linen, bright and clean,

   was given her to wear."

Then the angel said to me, "Write this: Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb!" And he added, "These are the true words of God."'

(Revelation 19:6-9)

'The Bible ends with a wedding ceremony.....the story of God culminates in Jesus bringing his Bride, the church, home to live with Him permanently. Those who have trusted in Christ for salvation throughout history, whether anticipating His coming or looking back to when He came, will live with Him forever. The marriage supper of the Lamb proves that the covenant-keeping God honours His promises. That is your Hope, and will always be the Hope of the Bride of Christ.' 

I've had quite a few 'wedding stress dreams' so far. Some of them involving me being forced to marry a complete stranger. NIGHTMARE! Others, have to do with my dress.....something going wrong, it not being what I've chosen....Silly things like that. Except it isn't silly.

For at the beginning of our stories, we are all born with the wrong clothing. We go through life, dressed in rags of false righteousness. But Jesus came and found us, in our floundering and dirty state. He took off his robe of white and fashioned it into the most stunning of wedding clothes. And took upon Himself our muddied and ripped clothing....

But my dear brother and sister, He didn't stop there. He took us away from our life of slavery, and has set our feet inside His own palace. To dwell, abide, and rule there with Him.....And even after all of this, I still pick up the broom to serve Him. It's as if I was a bride who insisted on serving the meal to all her guests in order to repay the bridegroom for his love.

When all He longs to do, is place me at His table and eat with me. At the wedding feast. Shall I not revel in this grace and love, instead of working to repay it? To rest in the act that makes my soul complete and whole.

Donald Miller writes, 'What I love about the true gospel of Jesus, though, is that it offers hope. Paul has hope our souls will be made complete. It will happen in heaven, where there will be a wedding and a feast. I wonder if that's why so many happy stories end in weddings and feasts. Paul says Jesus is the hope that will not disappoint. I find that comforting. That helps me get through the day, to be honest. It even makes me content somehow. Maybe that's what Paul meant when he said he'd learned the secret of contentment.....Do I still think there will be a day when all wrongs are made right, when our souls find the completion they are looking for? I do. But when all things are made right, it won't be because of some preacher or stake-oil salesman or politician or writer making promises in his book. I think, instead, this will be done by Jesus. And it will be at a wedding. And there will be a feast.'

'Come, come, we are friends: let's have a dance ere

we are married, that we may lighten our own hearts

and our wives' heels.' 

(Much Ado About Nothing)

'Play, music! And you, brides and bridegrooms all,

With measure heap'd in joy, to the measures fall.'

(As You Like It)

Love is?

Love.

Love is graciously 

patient with another soul,

kindhearted in all 

the movements of its hands 

and words.

The green root 

of envious feeling

does not colour its deeds.

Empty phrases of forecful validation,

proof of self's worth,

never burn within.

The heart of love is not only gentle,

but also humble;

seeking the other,

not its own pursuits.

It longs

always reaching out;

not expecting to be sought,

but to seek.

Love is not unneccessarily

harsh or brash,

with the precious closeness

of another being.

The spark of anger 

is always 

quenched

before the setting of the sun.

The record of past wrongs

does not trouble

the thoughts of Love,

they are buried deep

within the waters

of forgetfulness.

Love's eyes are full

of Truth.

And it is delighted in this holiness.

The vulnerable are protected

withing Love's strong

and steady

shelter.

Open-armed embrace.

It trusts

in the strenght of joy

which fills its being

with Hope,

and the faithful perseverence

of grace.

Love is gloriously triumphant.

          He never fails.

P.S. In a follow up thought from yesterday's post, check out this article if you've got the time. Seriously one of the best things I've read on marriage: http://theresurgence.com/2011/04/07/marriage-in-gods-story.