the love that matters
"The love that matters is His for you - yours for Him may presently exist only in the form of obedience. He will see to the rest."
Letters of C.S. Lewis, p357.
Letters of C.S. Lewis, p357.
Who is this?
by Mark.
That day when evening came,
He said to His disciples,
"Let us go over to the other side."
Leaving the crowd behind,
the took Him along, just as He was,
in the boat.
There were also other boats
with Him.
A
furious squall
came up,
and
the waves broke
over the boat,
so that it was nearly
swamped
.
Jesus was in the stern, sleeping
on a cushion.
The disciples woke Him
and said to Him, "Teacher,
don't you care
if we drown
?
"
He got up, rebuked the wind and said
to the waves, "
Quiet! Be still!
"
Then the wind died down
and it was completely calm
.
He said to His disciples,
"Why are you so afraid?
Do you still have no faith?"
They were terrified and asked each other,
"
Who is this?
Even the wind and the waves
obey Him!"
[mark 4:35-41]
Do you know who this is?
It is Jesus, King of Wind and Wave--
Jesus, King of Earth and Sea,
Jesus, Son of God, Son of Man,
Jesus, loving Friend of Sinners...
buh nuh.
“buh nuh. buh nUH. bUH NUH. BUH NUH. BUHNUH! REE REE REE REE!!!!!”
—Husband, in an IM message. I read it and look up to see him crawling across the floor from the other room with a mischievous grin on his face. I throw my head back and laugh. Next thing I know, he’s advanced to my chair and has his arms around me making menacing kissing sounds at my face. I laugh more.
It was a good moment.
In the throes of death
I watched a fly die this afternoon.
I was trying to read a book in the Seminary commons, but a persistent and sporadic buzzing kept distracting me. I looked over to see a fly on its back, about 10 feet from me, buzzing and flailing its little fly legs. It couldn't aright itself. It couldn't fly. It couldn't move. Then it quit struggling, and I thought that was surely the last of the fly. I sort of mourned its death and thought again about the transience of life and what it must be like to be in the last moments of life before death comes...
I returned to my book and shortly thereafter the buzzing started again. This time I cared less about the stupid fly and just wanted to be left to read my book in peace. It buzzed, it flailed, it ceased, it died. And I enjoyed the quiet.
I was trying to read a book in the Seminary commons, but a persistent and sporadic buzzing kept distracting me. I looked over to see a fly on its back, about 10 feet from me, buzzing and flailing its little fly legs. It couldn't aright itself. It couldn't fly. It couldn't move. Then it quit struggling, and I thought that was surely the last of the fly. I sort of mourned its death and thought again about the transience of life and what it must be like to be in the last moments of life before death comes...
I returned to my book and shortly thereafter the buzzing started again. This time I cared less about the stupid fly and just wanted to be left to read my book in peace. It buzzed, it flailed, it ceased, it died. And I enjoyed the quiet.