The words of Amos, one of the shepherds of Takoa – the vision he saw...
Trying to let go. Surrender full-on. Getting over the shouting back and shudder. “Limits, restriction, loss”. As if I done got material or otherwise, to squirm at this?
Not even that give-struggle in a relative, current, lap of lux – but the years the locusts have eaten . . .
Our moral compass?
Is it the compass or the map? All about us/inside -or- the terrain we view fixes direction? Clinical and pastoral insight would suggest, if we can only heal me/self, healed by God - however - better-wide should, or might, come. Cumulative re-configuring. Each one... teach one and all that. A what’s the problem? - “we are” . . .
God takes responsibility for the destruction of our lands and life. Never intended but one-step from inevitable, the call becomes more pronounced and louder. God ‘able to save but doesn’t’ is tantamount for the why, there’s ruin. And God ‘does’. In the mystery of involved in - yet resisting and fighting the unseen destroyers.
God present and . . .
Whichever way you look lame is a word to ponder.
One day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the time of prayer – at three in the afternoon...
Up too late - me, and so, up too late.
Welcome to the blog for God. In the context of few/if at all, read this. Can’t ‘be for God’ alone, because God’s heart is for others. Talking to . . .
D’know ‘bout my paths straight, what about the rest? The roads we’re on. All seems too beyond. Appreciate the why/this. Not slaved-up I’m blessed care-less/care free. Paths straight-from-God. Hence, try to work all I can. Write, image-up - and pray. (Oh..? and evangel-coming).
Because God leads me to believe, wants it.
A . . .
Consider my lament. A whisper, musing, murmuring. Knowing God (David) asks. ‘We need. You.’ And us/such wicked people. One rev-up from travelling in among the multitudes and so many, in the low-ways and street-ways, never believe bad about: It’s true. All sinned and... and surprisingly so. We are, w*k*d. Good to the core glimmers maybe, but . . .