Voice: Medium of Expression

The voice of one crying in the wilderness…the cry of an infant…the cry of anguish…my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

Prepare ye the way of the Lord! shouts the prophets over the pages…through the years…in the voice of a multitude preparing the way in song…sing…sing a song…make it simple…to last the whole year long

Hallelujah chorus…broken hallelujahs…voices raised in acclamation and praise…shouting, hooting, hollering…raising hands…joining in on the chorus…what does

my voice add in the strains of a million other voices…expressing words wrought from synapses and snapshots of memory and experiences and teachings and lives of living example

Creating together…voices of a thousand angels…cry Holy! Holy! Holy!
 
The heavens declare the glory of God,
and the sky displays what his hands have made.
 One day tells a story to the next.
Psalm 19:1-2 (GOD’S WORD Translation)
 
 
 
 
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Look: To Direct One’s Attention

Then he said to Thomas , “Put your finger here; see my hands.
Reach out your hand and put it into my side.
Stop doubting and believe.”
 
Thomas said to him, “My Lord and my God!”
 
Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”
John 20:27-28 NIV
 
 
Today’s Five Minute Friday prompt: LOOK
 
(This is where you write for five minutes,
no editing, just write and see what spills out.)
 
Here’s my offering:



Look at me. I have freckles. A diploma on my wall. A blog on the internet. I have a husband and two sons. I want you to notice how accomplished I have become. I am short. I have brown hair. I wear glasses.

Look at me, ma…no hands…I road my bike to have coffee with friends. I bought groceries and carried them home on the same bike. Aren’t you proud of me?

Don’t look at me! I am wart. I am slug. I am abscessed wound. I stink. I drop the ball. I am picked last. I didn’t comb my hair. My shirt and pants don’t match. I lie. I cheat. I pretend. I act out in anger. I scream. I curse. I want to punch someone in the face. I am ugly.

Look at Jesus.
 
I don’t know what he looked like, his physical body marred, bloody, sweaty, dripping with life. He walked dusty roads. He climbed a hill with a tree on his back. He looked upon his mother and John. He groaned. He breathed. He gasped. He died. Buried in a cave with a stone door. Body found missing.
 
He appears. He eats. They believe. One doubts. Jesus returns. Look at me. Look at my hands. Touch my wounds. Put your hand in my side. Believe.

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Race: Progess Toward a Goal

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run,
but only one receives the prize?
So run that you may obtain it.
1 Corinthians 9:24 ESV
 
 

It was a race against time. In a few short hours, he knew the cohort would surround them. It was dark and cooling off in the deserted olive grove. How often, they had walked here to escape the heat of the day, to talk over life. Tonight, he pushed towards the goal, along the way he told them a parable, one of his favorite ways of teasing them. To make them think, to challenge their status quo. To remind them that following was an adventure.

He spoke of the vinedresser, the vine and the vintage fruit. Reminding them that life apart from the vine was fruitless. But now, his heart raced, blood coursing through his veins in nervous expectation. Would he be able to finish the course set before him? The course his father imagined eons ago.

The faithful few were yawning, a stone’s throw away. A simple request: Watch with me. I need your prayers and your cheers to finish.

They nodded off. He remonstrated with them, please; I need to know I’m not alone. Won’t you press on toward the goal with me?

The third time the sweat on his brow, now, wiped on his sleeve; he was resolved. Panting with exhaustion, yet determined to go the final stretch. To be stretched beyond recognition.

A haunting rebuke, couldn’t you just give one hour?
 
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Welcome:To Accept with Pleasure the Presence of

Welcome to my world. The sign on my front door beckons. Come in and see. I have a place for you, set at the table. I want to share a meal. A conversation.

What will we talk about? Well, first I want to say I love you. And I hope you still love me as much as you did when we first met. I hope you love me more and more. The more we spend time together; I want to reveal my thoughts and intentions to you.

When you enter my world, you can leave your cares behind. I want you to have a carefree life. I went where you could never go, so that you could be welcome forever in my realm.

Now you have concerns, then you will experience joy unending.

The same way I have welcomed you, so you must also welcome others.

Thanks for stopping by, you are always wanted here. When you leave make sure you leave the door unlocked. I never shut you out, but I know you have to go back out to your world for now. One day, I will come back, and usher you into the scenes of glory like John described.

Then we will let out all the stops. You will join the chorus of “Holy, Holy, Holy!”

I can’t wait to gather everyone together in one welcoming place. Remember, I always love you!
 

 
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Grasp:To Embrace

Grasping at straws. Sifting through sand. Wandering through the wastelands of my mind, wondering why this desert season?

“Grasp my hand.” A faint call from across the universe. I step closer, incline my ear. “You are not alone. Take my hand.” I reach out and the distance seems unreachable, but you are infinite and able to reach me before I fall completely in the dust of despair.

You grasp my shoulders in an embrace, steadying me on the path. You dust me off, offering a drink of Living Water from a well I did not see through my tears. You are the God who sees me, who sees ahead and has seen the wilderness before.

You were here, yourself, a long time ago, wandering and wondering and waiting. Tested and tried. Weary and worn. Hungering for bread. Thirsting for water. Training for the Cross.

You grasp it all. You get my despair. You were tempted like me, yet without turning your back on the Father or grumbling against His intention for Your life. You took hold of what I can never totally comprehend. You clung to the goodness of your loving Father all the way through the sweat and blood and pain, enduring it all. Grasping for the JOY set before time, the JOY of seeing and providing for the great hunger and thirst left from the scars of Eden.

I get glimpses and every once in a wilderness, grasp how wide and how long and how high and how deep is this LOVE.
 
 
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