Living life as Child of God , walking with Jesus to see His kingdom come by the Power of the Holy Spirit. And writing of His Majesty and Glory in ALL THINGS that HE may be MAGNIFID ABOVE ALL THINGS!
Will thou not revive us again that thy people may rejoice in thee? Shew us thy mercy, O Lord and grant us thy salvation . I will hear what God the Lord will speak for he will speak peace unto his people and to His saints let them not return to folly. KJV
REVIVE US OH LORD!
Seems like folks don’t talk much bout “revival” nowadays. If they do talk about it, it’s an old stale memory . They say “it aint ever gonna happen again like it did” .
But, from these same folks, I’ve heard buckets of rain bout revival . Heard it will change a person in a moment , it’ll flip a whole family, then in days , turn a town upside down. Coming like the worst hurricane, before you can say “whew”, a whole city instantly changes its mind bout God , sin , Jesus and the Devil. Stories like this still spread even now saying that a revival could one day change a nation.
Sometimes I am caught telling people what I read in a book about revival. In Old Testaments and writings of Jews, there are revivals before Jesus came. Many brave men and women were shouting “Repent” from caves and desserts and mountains and palaces. John the Baptist carried on with “repent , the kingdom of heaven is at hand” to announce the Reviver had Come!
Then, there was Peter who repented and revived turning to Jesus and saying “to whom should we go you have the words of eternal life” And there were Awakenings and reformations and revivals after revivals all through time. Even to this very morning when I got out of bed and saw a bird singing in the rain and said “woe is me for I do not sing” and before I knew it , , , I was singing a song. Revivals wake up whats dead in us. Or so , that’s what Ive read and hear folks say.
Every denomination and every nationality has had a revival. . But “maybe you are right” I say.
” Maybe revivals were a long time ago and, like “ice chests” and “wall phones” and outhouses, we just don’t need them anymore. Shucks, we got everything in packages and wired to go. You know there just might be some “revival plan ” app on your phone” I tell folks. But quietly, secretly, I think about them every day.
EVERY REVIVAL IS DIFFERENT
“Well its just too bad you never got to go to a real revival “a brother said to me last Sunday,” you would have liked it”
“well, brother, just thinking bout revival keeps me revived! “I told him as I sat in my “usual seat” in the back of a church.
It had been a long time since I had come to see my brothers and sisters in this church. My friend “Frog” sat in front of me . As I wrote years before, Frog and I are different. And seeing Frog made me feel like I never lost any time at church.
When the preacher said “Don’t be thinkin bout folks around you, just keep your eyes on Jesus” , I had just been looking at Frog . But mostly I was remembering how Frog taught me everything about revival.. . and about keeping my “eyes on Jesus”
One thing everyone says bout “revival” is that each revival is “different” . The Spirit of God makes it so. Each revival happens like a winter storm or a summer rain. It is when something from Heaven drops down on folks : individual drops of the Spirit, like the tounges of fire, and all start speaking different. See revival ,they say, is when Jesus sneaks into a whole lotta hearts at once. Its when we ask for Jesus to come change our hearts and we wait to see what He does with them . Without a doubt, you will know when He comes. You will know because he is escorted by the flame and wind of the Holy Ghost!
When I looked at Frog , I remembered all this. I remembered long ago when revival came to this little church.
REVIVALS AREN’T PLANNED
When the band played the first song I wanted to think about revival . But as much as you can think about it, you can never plan it . It happens anywhere but ,only at certain times ,all for Our Father’s reason. Lots of Folks try to plan it but, it can NEVER be planned . Its a gift. “It can only be prayed for ” Jesus friends say. They say you gotta see Jesus face and be in His heart before you can see revival in any place .
“you just gotta pray real hard for revival” a sister told me. I believed her like I believed Jesus first friends.
So I started praying for revival . I asked in the morning ,in the evening ,and in between . I talked to Our Father bout revival while on toilets, in trucks, in cars, in planes, in houses , in prisons, in hospitals, in gas stations , in kitchens, chapels, bathrooms and especially in the park. I talked to Him everywhere I went, always saying “bring revival”. “we need revival!”
Lots of times I would tell Frog ” Frog you and I gotta pray for revival” . Frog would nod smile and always say “uh huh” but never would he say “Amen”
You know “he’s watching us”. “I mean it Frog you gotta pray a lot if you want revival!. “I would warn
You want revival don’t you? ‘I begged one day when we were bagging groceries. “uh huh” Frog would croak and then walk away waving both hands in the air singing syllables of songs I did not know.
” Im serious he’s watching you frog!!!” I warned back.
Frog walked on down the road to the store and back to playing cards and just maybe sipping beer. I knew that Jesus watched him the whole time.
“he’s waiting for you to pray Frog!” I shouted again after him.
But I wasn’t so sure about that. I knew Jesus was watching Frog play cards. But I wasn’t sure he was watching for him to pray. Maybe he was waiting for me to pray for Frog. And maybe he was just smiling to see if Frog would win or lose at cards before Frog prayed to Him.
One thing I forgot . I forgot Jesus was watching me too.
As day ran into day ,without revival, I grew into what Jesus told me not to grow. I grew ” weary.” I walked around very weary saying “it doesn’t really matter” ” I am so tired of praying. I’m tired of being the “only one praying” for revival.” Soon my heart went from mad to sad. And I then saw a glimpse of Jesus eyes. He was weeping.
I saw he was in weeping over my business and Frogs business. He looked and said to my heart, It is all His Business . . it’s just sometimes. . . lots of times we forget he sees all this business. We forget bout His eyes running to and fro seeing everything. And if we do remember, we want Him to catch sight of all our “good things”. So While Frog was at the store being seen by all drinking beer and playing cards, with the rest, I got busy “doing things for the Lord”.. .. hoping He’d see me.
And the Lord Jesus’s eyes were running to and fro looking for but one. . . .
Behind the heads of all flowers that died and flowers that bloomed . behind all faces with scowls and faces with smiles, Behind hot bright our sunny skies or our cold dark skies , I could see His glance looking . Beneath much and beneath little, He moved His eyes across everything , ever so thinly. as a ray of hope, He would peek at us.. . . Looking for but one to repent and turn to LOVE HIM. (1)(2)(3)
But the Fullness of the Son’s face was not on us.(4) Everything seemed cloudy and dull. I even thought of Frog like a cloud himself. Like some nimbostratus rain cloud , big and dark carrying bad weather. I never knew when Frog would show up. Whether to the park or to church, Frog would disturb the climate when he came . He would either drift slowly in on foot or zoom loudly on his lawn mower.
Everyone would be drop their pencil or bible, look about and whisper to one another. Some folks started to plan to just lock the door so Frog couldn’t come late and disturb them.
Frog on the other hand never acted ashamed of being late. he just looked happy to be there. As dark days came and went , Frog acted more and more like a cloud. keping the same weather pattern , Frog was always Coming late, leaving early. I complained to Our Father.
“He’s like a Cloud He doesn’t think much bout what folks think of him and he never pays much mind to what you have planned. ” I groaned. “What good are clouds anyway I asked. They just come to bring rain like tears. ”
The more I looked at Frog, the more I thought about my own behavior. I found it easy to compare. . . .” Well “i am mostly on time. well I really never leave early if I do its caus I got a real important assignment. well I really never disturb anybody . ” I could see all the things I was doing “right”.
Soon I wanted to do more “things right.” I started thinking bout what I was wearing. how much I gave for my offering, when I would pray, how long I should hug. who I could hug, how many this how much that how long this how far that. . . .
I started thinking about what others thought more and more. And the more I looked at Frog and how Frog was not doing things right, the more I was busy acting “more right”. And the more I worked , the more the tears and rain fell on every page of my diary. There still was no revival.
“Frog you gotta show Daddy you love Him so you gotta show up on time and stay the whole time when you come to the house” I would say to Frog on Sundays .
He would just smile shaking his head at me like I said something all wrong. Then, He would crank up his lawn mower and drive off. .
Frog walked in the next Tuesday right when Pastor was closing in prayer . During prayer , Frog wandered all around the back of the house. He then came to me with money rolled up in a ball. “my oooooofrng” he said to me and then walked out the door.
Saying “it just aint the right time for offering Frog, ” I stuffed it in my bible.
After prayer,I tossed Frogs crumbled offering on Pastors pulpit . “He picked the wrong time for this He is supposed to do this on sunday morning,” I said proudly .Pastor took the offering and unrolled it ” its okay, sis ” .he said. Smoothing out the wrinkled bill he said, ” Hes just Loving Daddy ”
“well Love for Daddy outta be on time ” I thought as I marched away to scribble a complaint in my diary.
REVIVALS TURN TABLES TO MAKE A HOUSE FOR GOD
Pastor let Frog love Daddy in his own time lots of other times .Frog would come in late often bellow and “AAAAAmen ” and then turn right around and leave. His amens were like a burst of thunder in the room. Pastor kept loving Frog in all his disruptions.
He loved him so much that one day when we all dropped our pencils, and bibles and turned in a cold hard stare at Frog getting up and leaving, Pastor kindly spoke across the room to Frog. He said “Frog, you got someplace to go?”. Frog turned around smiled walked back to his seat and sat down. It felt like Frog and Pastor were working together to teach us something .
Seemed like everybody’s mind was going out the door that very minute that Frog got up . And after Pastor spoke it seemed like the Lord was saying to each of us “Children, do you too have someplace else to go”.
But when Frog came back and sat down , an aroma , musty and earthy, entered like mud soaked in fresh rain on the field . We all turned back to our bibles thinking “Lord to whom shall we also go ?You have the words to eternal life. ”
REVIVALS BRING UNITY AND LOVE
But the greatest preaching with Frog and Pastor came late one Tuesday night. It came right when folks were figuring out tithes and talents and tassels and tatooes and tucking in shirts. He came right when some one was asking “exactly how should we hug one another” on a Tuesday night.
Frog came right when the circle was breaking and folks were gathering one another against one another. He came right when every brother and sister was mistaken and murmuring about one another.
There was so much rumbling it felt the coming of a tornadoe in the room. words were stirring almost angry.Frog walked to the front and stood still. He looked sad and dark like a very dark thick cloud . Like a cloud that held a torrent of rain.
Pastor said “well church lets pray . . . are there any other. . not questions . .” he asked hesitantly ” but requests for prayer?”Frog stepped into the middle of the circle, Pastor met him there. We circled around each holding the hand of the other.
“What do you want from God Frog?” Pastor asked
“oooooooooooog” Frog’s word entered the air
“What’s that Frog?” Pastor looked kindly closer to Frog
“ooooooooood” Frog said
“I think he wants God” a brother whispered
“you want God””eaaaaah” Frog said as he nodded and smiled repeating “ooood, ooooood, oooooodd eeesus. . . . eeesus”
Then he said “moooooore oooooood all eesus”
“More God?” Pastor asked
“uh ha uh ha uh ha” Frog said nodding
” Jesus is God ” pastor drew close to Frog putting his arms on his shoulders ” you believe Jesus Frog?”
“uh hu uh hu” Frog replied , his face beginning to speak more than any word spoken.”Then if you have Jesus , You have it all Frog”
“come on church, put your hands on Frog” Pastor said.
Suddenly, Frogs hands lifted and tears fell from his face. Suddenly it looked like streams of water twisting and turning across rich soil. A mist settled on his forehead as Frog replied with clear tounge
Hands that rested on Frog beaded with this baptism .We all felt the love of Jesus come by Frog’s invitation . Then suddenly, Frog flung his arms around Pastor. “I love you” .”I love you too Frog” Pastor said
“oooood is good. Jesus. . .””yes Frog , He is very good” Pastor said as he watched Frog go to the older brother and sister.
The older brother and sister whispered in weeping “all the time, Frog, all the time”
He went from brother to sister with the same love, flinging his long arms around each person, proclaiming the same love with the same fervor one brother and sister at a time. A new baptism of Love splashed from limb to limb.
Messy Sweat and dirty tears taught every soul one Tuesday night. It wasn’t tidy or told, it wasn’t even on time in our minds. It wasn’t a fresh clean rain . But in our hearts ,it was everything Our Father wanted to give. And it was right on time. He sent healing waters through Frog . . . rushing rivers of the two greatest commandments into our body. . . into His Body the Church.
I don’t know much bout revivals or folks that go to them . But I know one thing about revival. It is happens only when Jesus is invited to bring the Love of God by the Power of the Holy Ghost in the room . And I know I have been to a “revival” cause Frog invited him in the room that rainy Tuesday night.
“Stop Looking at your neighbor and look to your Creator” I heard the pastor say . I shook out of my fond remembrance of revival.
Maybe I just might not need to know much more bout revival . The Creator of The Revival has taught me well. For Jesus proved true in all that he said about the two greatest commandments . And if I deny my self and pick up them ,then I think I get revival .
There is no greater law or way or program or duty of man than these which Jesus brings by His Spirit into His church.
“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment. And the second is like it ‘ you shall love your neighbor as yourself” On these two commandments depend all the laws and the prophets.
Revival dear Frog is when these two commands command our Hearts! Yes Yes AMEN and God’s revival is always RIGHT and ON TIME.. . .!
The eyes of the Lord are in every place beholding the evil and the good. proverbs 15:3
For the ways of man are before the eyes of the Lord and he pondereth all his goings Proverbs 5:21
For the eyes of the Lord run to and fro throughout the whole earth to give strong support to those whose heart is blameless toward him. 2 Chronicles 16:9
in times of revival ,we cannot preach of ourselves OR our works. “For we do not preach ourselves but Christ Jesus the Lord and ourselves as bondservants for Jesus sake. For it is God who commanded light to shine out of darkness who has shone in our hearts to give the Light of the knowledge of the glory of God in THE FACE OF JESUS CHRIST.2 Cor 4:5-6
Because , It is NOW too late for me to roll up a sleeve.
Somehow now I see I cannot wrestle you away from this place.
I see that You have put a choke hold on all things of God’s grace.
ACEDIA , there is something about your ways that bore me to death!
So now mustering a mere ounce of umption I will exit for breath.
Walking OUT THE DOOR, away from the guest ACEADIA
“Oh come Oh Come Oh Breath of God, Breathe your Breath into my Yawns!
Blow the boredom that broods from dawn to dusk then dusk to damned dawn
Oh Breath, Sweet Breath of Jesus breathe your life Breath back into my yawn!!!
RETURN Slamming the door to berate the guest ACEADIA
Now, hear me Acedia ,will you please leave now from my couch?
UGH, sickly you bend and twist and then rest in a slothfilled slouch!
Your company makes thumbs stiffly fidget on tablets and phones
Stop euthanizing my soul! Our God gives Life of His to His own.!!!!
Looking OUT THE WINDOW at snow away from the guest ACEADIA
Oh Big Breath of God blow fragments of Life from the sacred Sky!
Wave whirlwinds of manna from places where only angels fly!
Oh Big Breath of God bring Chinock winds to thaw what’s cold alive!
So I will trade greetings “just exist” for calls to ” fully thrive”
Boldly Turning back to guest ACEADIA
Out of here you !And take your gadgets and trinkets two by two!
I’ve fields to harvest so white that they glisten with gospel dew!
You must be gone now! Gone , back to hell you tempter devil of Sloth!
Off my couch now !! Ive no room for both you and the one I betrothed!!
My Jesus, right here , will send you away after He crushes you on your lap!
And His foot will curse and destroy ALL the NOON DAY DEVILS TRAP!!!!
The Door blows open and The guest , Acedia , Flees with All his devices
1 . Acedia is a state of bored restlessness . Also, called the “noon day devil” It might be seen like a fidgeting laziness that comes after the freshness of morning. It is a definite creeping boredom with things of God. Though it was first defined 350 years after Christ as one of “eight evil thoughts”, later to become one of the “seven deadly sins” , it is a most modern sin. It is modern in the sense that it is most active today in anesthetizing the “Christian” by means of its numbing effect. The modern Christian is distracted to “present as a Christian person” but not inwardly “experience being an ALIVE and ACTIVE Christian”
2. Acedia prevalent in these “last days” leads to what Paul describes as times “where men will be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful un holy. . . . lovers of pleasure more than lovers of good. “ 2 Timothy 3:1-5
3. Acedia , also called “sloth” ,is what King Solomon warns us ” is suicidal “. “The fool sits back and takes it easy, His sloth is slow suicide” (Ecc 4:5 (message )) and “Sloth causeth deep sleep to fall and an indolent soul doth starve” (Proverbs 19:15 ) In contrast Solomon writs of the godly woman “She watches the ways of her household, and bread of sloth she eats not. ” Proverbs 31:27.
4. The only means to defeat Acedia is to invite LIFE and TRUTH in the room of our HEARTS . Killing the sin of Acedia, is to invite JESUS to THROW ALL DISTRACTIONS OUT OF THE ROOM OF OUR HEARTS and welcome only the SPIRIT OF JESUS. Jesus has conquered Acedia and given us a life free of it!!!
Now lettest thou thy servant depart, Lord, According to thy word, in peace; For mine eyes have seen thy salvation, Which thou hast prepared before the face of all peoples; A light for revelation to the Gentiles, And the glory of thy people Israel.” Zechariah Luke 2:29-32
Faces we Remember
“ I heard your father died.” they said to me today.
I thought of the word “ died” .
My father often said “ your God has died”
And today someone said the same thing about him.
“Not everything dies” I said quickly.
When someone dies… or as we now say “ passes”, we remember. While they are alive we spend our time laughing and complaining and arguing with them . But when they die, when they leave us to silence, we remember.
Some have memorials for those who died. Often services, or “homegoings” shouts of memory are expressed in words or tears or visions in our minds. These are all a gift for us to let us “remember”. Some, who “die” , however, slip away, slip away without anyone remembering. Their bodies are put in paupers graves or burned and contained somewhere in a government-owned yard. Yet, we all know , even the coldest atheist knows, someone once saw their face. Someone could remember them.
When my father died,two weeks ago, he had only a few friends. Mainly he had wives and girlfriends and two daughters to remember him. All his life he imagined he would be remembered. He was not unlike so many of us too who long to be remembered . Yet in his imagination it was grander than most….he wanted to be remembered for being “Lord Makemson” . He wanted to be known as a royal person who had “mastered” it all .
Like a Renaissance man, he had invented and written and designed and performed to the level of being the ” maestro” of all things. All his close friends would call him “lord M” and so would I . It would be many years until I could call him “Daddy”. He forbid that name, but with every greeting of “Lord M” or “Make the Snake” a impish childlike grin would erupt from his otherwise always “pondering” face. He wanted to be remembered for being very great in the eyes of man.
Looking back , I see my father’s face. I see that I grew up being changed every time I was around my father. Some records in journals record my mature love and others record adult years of childlike anger. A range of words at this man who thought too much of himself and of whom I had no name to call.
He thought so much of himself that he developed among all friends an ideology of a system of “one world order”. In the “one world order” ,he was to be the Ruler. The one and only Ruler.There would be no God, no competing “Theocracy” only His “Aristocracy” that of an Artist and Scientist. In his system, only the scientists would have faces with eyes to see. And only what the scientists saw could the artist paint. “No religion !” He would yell.
“But God still sees all and the universe is His canvas,” I would eventually be bold enough to yell back.
“Oh to hell with your God” he would say for many years.
His face in early years red and fierce later to turn pale and pleading.
” I will tell your God to go to hell” he would announce .
But God never went where my father told Him to go . He stayed right near my father on the porch waiting for him to come home.
“I still see his face” my sister texted. We last saw him lifeless , still , stonefaced. But it is not the dead alone that are “stone faced”. Many folks in our lives can become static and frozen in our mind. They stay preserved in a scene as we remember when we last saw them face to face . Away from the scene , we look at them in media but they don’t ever look back. Though we call the place “social ” , it is only a place where the sound is silence.
Frustrated, we tour faces like children in a hall of a wax museum. We prowl across our computers. Every face stares back , immobile frozen , from some moment far away. We cannot make it change with a greeting. It seems No matter what you type at it, it is only an emoji that comes back . Now even your dearest friends face remains the same. It’s an immovable face. One thought away from being an enemy or idol or dead.
But in reality everybody with a face has a face that faces a newness every moment. We are all being changed. And though we think , “ah that is so and so “and they are “doing this and that”. At the time we say it , it is past and God. . . the Creator Of time and events … is forever making something new. Still, we hang , we hold, we hope , that what we looked at a moment ago matches our judgement whether good or bad of someone.
And we proudly say “ oh I knew that all along about them” “yep , they are just. . . “ or “Im happy that they are. .. “ and “went . . and saw and have. . .” We seldom judge rightly. . . . much less than we ought. Much less than God created us to do. It is really because we do not see them face to face
And yet , if we do , if we do see someone face to face, we become so busy with the thing at hand that we do not see them at all. It may be dinner or church or work when we are given the chance to “ see” . . .But here again we are always thinking and feeling and talking. We seldom really see . We seldom really hear. We seldom are in a place where it is just us and our neighbor, loving, face to face.
And so if we cannot see our Brother ( or sister) we just might find we are far from a place where we see Our Father as well. We cannot hear or feel or see Our Father. delighting over them or us… delighting over His children.
Soon they die. And when they “die” we wonder. . . we wonder where they are and where is Our Father in all of this.
Faces that cannot see
So, Since the dawning of Face book, folks have left their life journals and tucked them dusty and forgotten on shelves. Even if we receive journals at Christmas and holidays we now are more distracted to look at Instagram and Facebook. Always we are lured away from the joy of tearing the paper, opening the present and feeling gratitude for the person who thought enough to buy us a little space in the world .
Before us , A sweet little space to record God’s story in us. But , Distracted and wanting, like spoiled children, we quickly toss blank pages aside for the next “posted” thing. Thumbs up and thumbs roll across holiday photos and friends posts of a lives we never ever saw. Of friends we never remember hugging, Of food our families will never taste.
We think we are in a story of time. But deep down we know what we hold with social media is an illusion . We hold a souvenir of a reality Our Father would want us to really enter and enjoy. Our Father wants us to meet Him with our hearts face to face.
So, Rising up away from the gift of a journal , we return to “our network” and consider what others with stone faces on screens are doing. The journal is blank on the floor. But deep down, though we have seen many faces, we are lonely to see the FACE OF GOD in something, in someone. We want something alive and close. In the “now” there is not one we know . We barely know ourselves. Somewhere we have lost what God intended for us to keep . To record. To remember….. To tell of His Story …To Remember in a life he has ordained since Before He ordained time.
Faces upon Faces, Posts upon Posts, we become like James says , walking away and forgetting who we are. Everything seems unreal. And when it is far away and unreal, we then become like prodigal sons who have run away from our Father’s face. We don’t even remember His face. We cannot see it smiling on the one who is sitting in front of us , we cannot hear it we cannot believe it is real.
Our Father, God , who gave us our first blank sheet of paper to describe or draw a reflection of His Goodness waits. Though he seems like a “BabyDaddy” and we his ‘latchkey children” being raised by a TV screen, there is something real and alive with us as a Father every moment . He has a face we cannot see.
Faces in Books
I sit now before photos and notes. Photographs and journals , as old fashioned and far away as they sound, are the next best thing to books. We all know it to be true when we hold it in our hands. We know something deep and mysterious and real may come from something bland and blank. Paper with ink. Photos with images. As trees ache, so do souls groan, for the axe, the axe of a Holy Hand to yield a better story. . . one with our name on it. One that is Alive.
“Scribbles”! My father thought it “common, trite, and close to barbaric” for me to write in a journal. While , he wrote many “great thoughts” on small spiral notebooks he ridiculed “the common folk ” writing in journals. As well , while he took many pictures, few photographs he admired. Yet often , in the last days we would delight in pictures of his ever thinning ‘European face”.
Busy through the years with “lord M’s” health and home, I did not know at the time what was beautifully unfolding. But now each journal entry, each picture, like a presents drop in my lap waiting for me to unwrap little clues to the great treasure that was given to my dad. I only unwrap the clues. The present was a gift only for my father, from my Father in heaven. .
I wish that I had written more clues and situations . I regret that I did not record every discourse and distress, every battle for belief, every tender shared joy of the atheist man and his “Primitive, slave, “ Christian daughter. But most times my entries would be interrupted by another. Mostly ,Jesus would enter between me and my father. the complaint of ours turn to praise and the hurt of ours turns to health. .
“ I prefer you not disrespect me by bringing your imaginary Messiah around “ my father would say “I do not need him to be in the story of my kingdom”
My pen might dry for a moment. But with a shake soon I see I could bring my father ,” The other” around Jesus at least in my journal . And when I did it would totally change my mind about my father on that very paper and for a moment I would REMEMBER HIM AS OUR FATHER KNEW HIM. . . for a moment I would see his face as His heavenly father saw His face . And even if , I could not, even if I were to slam my book shut in unbelief, there remained an eye in my heart opened for the impossible. There was the whisper saying ” no eye has seen no ear heard what God had prepared.”
I begin to write this for my family and For all who call me “family. “But I write it also for any who long to believe for another, for those, like Saint Augustine’s mother ,who prayed thirty tireless years for the salvation of one. And this is also for ones who do not want to grow weary but write to Our Lord about their wrestling in hope. And this is for my father, my sister’s father, the writers, to bear patiently with my grammar and to hear what we share. . a Story. .. A Story of a very GREAT GLORY that Our Father wants us to see . . FACE TO FACE!
So at the right time, a time when we see Glory in the end was a Glory we never saw in the beginning ,we might Believe Him much more! Yes and Amen there is Something about the way Our Father created us, all of us. We continue though all time to write stories and take pictures.
Perhaps, I said to my father “ there is a story being written about you by God. What if He is not dead but a brilliant writer ? ”.what if He is the most brilliant writer whose story he wants every one to remember ? And what if His story remembered Gives Him Glory ? ( to be continued)