Hosea.
Probably one of the most overlooked books in the scriptures; but the Word of God is living, and this past week my eyes have been opened to the beauty of these few short chapters. I think Hosea 1 can speak for itself.
"When the Lord first began speaking to Israel through Hosea, he said to him, 'Go and marry a prostitute, so that some of her children will be conceived in prostitution. This will illustrate how Israel has acted like a prostitute by turning against the Lord and worshiping other gods.' So Hosea married Gomer, the daughter of Diblaim..." and later talking about Israel, "Then, at the place where they were told, 'You are not my people,' it will be said, 'You are children of the living God...In that day you will call your brothers Ammi—'My people.' And you will call your sisters Ruhamah—‘The ones I love.'"
Sometimes I have a hard time viewing God as someone who pursues me with a perfect love. It's much easier for me to think of Him as the God who creates worlds and spins galaxies into existence rather than the passionate lover. I'm not sure if this difficulty comes from a well-justified feeling of unworthiness or whether the limits of my imagination are set conservatively in that respect. The Father has a lot to teach me in this area, and has begun to unfold some beautiful truths over the past few days.
Just imagine Hosea acting on God's instruction. Imagine the poor guy walking through the bad part of town, looking for the one God had chosen as His prophet's bride. What did he say to her first as she turned away in shame from this holy man of God? "Excuse me, God told me to marry the sickest whore I could find on the street and marry her. You're the one ma'am." Imagine Hosea awkwardly standing in front of the Rabbi by his bride, his reputation ruined, and himself half disgusted or half doubtling God's call all together. Think of Gomer, hesitating every step as the women in the town turned their sour faces from the disgraced couple and the men frowning over lusting eyes. I wonder how many questions filled their minds as they posed for one of the most breathtaking portraits of God's love He ever painted.
This week, God has been revealing a passionate love that goes beyond the deepest understanding. The grand paradox, if you will, of the Creator of the Universe debasing himself to win over His unworthy creation to the love of the ages. A love that wants hold our hand as we run barefoot through tall grass in the subtle rays of an early sunrise. A love that transforms us from the whore on the street into a radiant and innocent virgin. A love that makes us cry as we lie in bed at night for the beauty of life. A love that calls us to be both reckless and reverent. A love that knows who we are and pursues us in spite of it. A love that will climb trees and make shapes out of clouds with us on a summer afternoon.
I know that that was a bit of a sermon, but hey, it's Sunday
Cammy - good luck on the Italian exam tomorrow,
McK
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Prayer and Rain
Hello everyone,
It's been raining a lot lately. I washed my car Saturday since our water restrictions have finally been repealed. Of course it rained Sunday afternoon, streaking the light green pollen (that I had overlooked) down the doors and windshield of my Rodeo. Monday it rained again, this time for better, sending the powdery stripes swirling onto the curb. Tuesday, the green stuff once again coated the Isuzu like a light covering of patina.
I promise I do more throughout the week than stare at my car.
When I was driving home from the library today, I was listening Ella Fizgerald (so fitting for rain, by the way), when I thought about how classy rain is. When it rains my thoughts sometimes tend to wonder sidewalks in Manhattan or maybe Chicago. The time is somewhere between 2:00 and 3:00AM, the rain whirling in the streetlamps, and one or two cafes still have on their blinking neons. A smooth strain of a saxophone rises from a deep corner of a room from a few floors up, slowly enveloping the airwaves like cigarette smoke. Rain makes me think of satin gowns and martinis and grand pianos and the Pink Panther.
There's something about rain that always puts me in the mood for prayer. Maybe it's the hypnotizing swish of windshield wipers, or the way small droplets form tiny rivers on window panes. I feel like I can get lost in the way rain falls limply to the ground from a massive gray swath of gas in the sky. Maybe the feeling that all of us are formed be something greater. Maybe it's the transiency of the droplet rivers which, with the swoop of a windshield blade, come crashing down to the pavement. I think this transiency makes me think of eternity. The prayer can come so naturally at these times, it's almost subliminal; just listening. It astounds me that our Creator can be so gentle, whispering melodies into our souls while breathing corrections into spirits. It amazes me that our Father chooses to give us this peace.
That's all for now,
McK
It's been raining a lot lately. I washed my car Saturday since our water restrictions have finally been repealed. Of course it rained Sunday afternoon, streaking the light green pollen (that I had overlooked) down the doors and windshield of my Rodeo. Monday it rained again, this time for better, sending the powdery stripes swirling onto the curb. Tuesday, the green stuff once again coated the Isuzu like a light covering of patina.
I promise I do more throughout the week than stare at my car.
When I was driving home from the library today, I was listening Ella Fizgerald (so fitting for rain, by the way), when I thought about how classy rain is. When it rains my thoughts sometimes tend to wonder sidewalks in Manhattan or maybe Chicago. The time is somewhere between 2:00 and 3:00AM, the rain whirling in the streetlamps, and one or two cafes still have on their blinking neons. A smooth strain of a saxophone rises from a deep corner of a room from a few floors up, slowly enveloping the airwaves like cigarette smoke. Rain makes me think of satin gowns and martinis and grand pianos and the Pink Panther.
There's something about rain that always puts me in the mood for prayer. Maybe it's the hypnotizing swish of windshield wipers, or the way small droplets form tiny rivers on window panes. I feel like I can get lost in the way rain falls limply to the ground from a massive gray swath of gas in the sky. Maybe the feeling that all of us are formed be something greater. Maybe it's the transiency of the droplet rivers which, with the swoop of a windshield blade, come crashing down to the pavement. I think this transiency makes me think of eternity. The prayer can come so naturally at these times, it's almost subliminal; just listening. It astounds me that our Creator can be so gentle, whispering melodies into our souls while breathing corrections into spirits. It amazes me that our Father chooses to give us this peace.
That's all for now,
McK
Monday, April 21, 2008
Getting Started
Hello everyone,
Well I've decided to take another plunge into the blogging world. I kept up with my Xanga site for awhile until I realized that it was falling under the stereotype of 14-year-old girls who have nothing better to do. Hopefully this blog can be a bit more of a creative outlet.
I'd like to think that the title of this site stems from the idea that some of the most remarkable people are those that might seem to be just faces in a crowd. People who, like endless cul-de-sacs and whitewashed shutters, might seem to be the essence of conformity. But people who, underneath their cubicle jobs and drive-thru lunches, have ideas. Ideas about everything from the size of the universe to the smallest atom. Ideas about how a government should serve its people. Ideas about what makes a baby laugh or how a composer channels landscapes and distant horizons with the stroke of a bow on a string. Ideas about what causes DNA to work in perfect accord to sustain life. Ideas about what starts wars and what ends them. Ideas about God and infinity. These are the heroes who long for something more, and who wish to soar higher in their dreams - anticipating the day when they will find themselves in their dreams awake.
This blog is for these superheroes.
With anticipation,
McK
Well I've decided to take another plunge into the blogging world. I kept up with my Xanga site for awhile until I realized that it was falling under the stereotype of 14-year-old girls who have nothing better to do. Hopefully this blog can be a bit more of a creative outlet.
I'd like to think that the title of this site stems from the idea that some of the most remarkable people are those that might seem to be just faces in a crowd. People who, like endless cul-de-sacs and whitewashed shutters, might seem to be the essence of conformity. But people who, underneath their cubicle jobs and drive-thru lunches, have ideas. Ideas about everything from the size of the universe to the smallest atom. Ideas about how a government should serve its people. Ideas about what makes a baby laugh or how a composer channels landscapes and distant horizons with the stroke of a bow on a string. Ideas about what causes DNA to work in perfect accord to sustain life. Ideas about what starts wars and what ends them. Ideas about God and infinity. These are the heroes who long for something more, and who wish to soar higher in their dreams - anticipating the day when they will find themselves in their dreams awake.
This blog is for these superheroes.
With anticipation,
McK
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