Yep, those are all examples of bad analogies. I’ve probably done my fair share of bad writing in the past, or at least looking back I can see where I could have improved upon it a bit.

But the most important thing in writing is that you write something every single day. Get the thoughts out of your head and on to paper or some sort of a device.

I’ve learned that the best way to get better at writing is to write a lot and to read a lot. Hopefully, you can learn from others while at the same time finding your own distinctive and unique voice.

My goal for this particular blog post is to get at least one person reading these words to go and write their own words.

If only one person does, then mission accomplished.

I was scrolling through my memories on Facebook just now when I ran across a fantastic Brennan Manning quote on sainthood.

When most people think of saints, they think of some extraordinary person who did miracles and who rarely– if ever– sinned. These “saints” are beyond what most of us can ever hope to become or achieve.

Then I read this quote and am reminded that we who belong to Jesus are ALREADY saints. We are those who have been made holy not through our own efforts or actions but through Jesus’ taking our sin and giving us His righteousness.

So without further ado, here’s the quote:

“Thomas Merton, a saintly person in his own right, said: ‘A saint is not someone who is good. It is someone who has experienced the goodness of God.’ Going with Merton’s thought, saints are those have come to know deep, abiding grace. Saints understand that their failures and shortcomings do not disqualify them from receiving God’s love. Saints have learned that their grotesque, self-inflicted wounds, rather than alienating God, bring the divine to bear in their lives in unique and powerful ways.”

“We overcome the accuser of our brothers and sisters, we overcome our consciences, we overcome our bad tempers, we overcome our defeats, we overcome our lusts, we overcome our fears, we overcome our pettiness on the basis of the blood of the Lamb” (D.A. Carson).

That’s the key. It’s the blood of the Lamb, Jesus, that enables us to overcome all that weighs us down or pulls us under from time to time. 

It’s not a matter of trying harder. It’s not about believing in yourself more. It’s not about you in your own strength willing yourself to do and be better.

It’s about surrender. It’s about dying to yourself and your plans and your way of thinking. It’s not about what you can do for Jesus but what He’s already done for you.

I’m back.

I have returned to Bellevue and am dog sitting three lovable pups. It has been a while. Maybe two years?

It’s hard to keep track these days the way time seems to fly by.

But some things don’t seem to change. Like these pups who still know who I am and are still as fun and loving as ever.

I’m savoring the moments that I know won’t last forever.

At the present, two of these doggos are asleep and snoring contentedly away.

I think I’ll be doing the same (sans snoring hopefully) in short order.

In case you needed a little perspective. Never take for granted how blessed you are.

I’m finding out that Peanut the cat has a pretty smart idea about what to do on a Sunday afternoon– as little as possible.

I’m also fairly certain that she tried to find the most comfy spots so that she could keep the moving around to a minimum.

I’m thinking that I’d like to have the life of a cat (preferably an indoor cat) because they know how to live. Their day consists of food and naps, both of which I also enjoy.

As you can tell from the above photo, she has very little stress in her life. She has most definitely made herself at home in the more than two years since she came home with me from the shelter.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I found out recently that July is National Bereaved Parents Month, so if you are one of the unfortunate ones to have lost a child at any point, this is for you:

”Today I wrote a note to a bereaved mother. I wanted to say don’t believe all those sympathy cards. The ones that say ‘time heals’ and ‘God only takes the best’ and ‘may your sorrows be lessened.’ You’ll only be disappointed. I wanted to say this is the most heart-wrenching, chest crushing, breath stealing tragedy on earth. I wanted to tell her there will be days she wants to die, and friends who will not understand some of the things she does or says.

I wanted to tell her she will still feel her child’s presence at times, sometimes so strongly that it is as if they are dancing just at the edge of whatever activity is going on. And other times she might not feel their presence at all.

I wanted to tell her that her life will not go back, that she will never be the same, because a piece of her left with her child. And that even though the pain does not go away, somehow her soul will eventually make enough room so she can hold it all– the grief, the pain, the joy, and the love. 

I wanted to tell her… but I didn’t. Instead, I wrote this: I’m sending love, for words are pointless right now. And that is the truth” (Susi Costello).

This may be a repeat. Actually, I’m fairly certain it’s a repeat.

I’ve mentioned gratitude many times in these posts of mine.

I think I keep repeating myself because I keep hoping it will sink in.

Mostly, these blog posts are just me preaching to myself with you getting to join in the fun.

I’m sure that gratitude is much more attractive than envy, but it seems like every kind of ad for every kind of product or service is banking on the fact that most of us are envious of our neighbors and want what they have.

Gratitude does make what you have into enough. Therefore, to be grateful is one of the most counter-cultural virtues you can have. Giving thanks seems rebellious in this ultra-competitive society.

Choose gratitude.

“And now hear your task. Far from here in the land of Narnia there lives an aged king who is sad because he has no prince of his blood to be king after him. He has no heir because his only son was stolen from him many years ago, and no one in Narnia knows where that prince went or whether he is still alive. But he is. I lay on you this command, that you seek this lost prince until either you have found him and brought him to his father’s house, or else died in the attempt, or else gone back to your own world.”

“How, please?” said Jill.

“I will tell you, Child,” said the Lion. “These are the signs by which I will guide you in your quest. First; as soon as the Boy Eustace sets foot in Narnia, he will meet an old and dear friend. He must greet that friend at once; if he does, you will both have good help. Second; you must journey out of Narnia to the north till you come to the ruined city of the ancient giants. Third; you shall find a writing on a stone in that ruined city, and you must do what the writing tells you. Fourth; you will know the lost prince (if you find him) by this, that he will be the first person you have met in your travels who will ask you to do something in my name, in the name of Aslan.”

As the Lion seemed to have finished, Jill thought she should say something. So she said, “Thank you very much. I see.”

“Child,” said Aslan, in a gentler voice than he had yet used, “perhaps you do not see quite as well as you think. But the first step is to remember” (C. S. Lewis, The Silver Chair).

Sometimes it all starts with remembering who you are and Whose you are.

Sometimes when my creativity is at a low ebb and I’m feeling weary from the week, I get ideas for blog posts from scrolling through my Facebook memories.

Sometimes, I find something I posted that seems so relevant and timely that I have to share it.

In this case, I copied and pasted the entire thing because it’s that good. It’s worth the time it takes to read. It comes from Tyler McKenzie, Pastor out of Louisville, Kentucky:

“If we’re not self-aware, there are many ways social media can make us less, not more, social. One way that quietly goes unnoticed (but whose painful consequences are undeniable in our culture) is that it allows us to choose and filter the voices we listen to. 

It feeds confirmation bias politically, racially, culturally, religiously, etc. It creates a sort of self-made groupthink bubble in which you can simply screen out people who express any opinion on any thing that you don’t like. 

No wonder the States of America are Divided, not United, today. No wonder literally everything feels so polarized – Choose your side! No wonder efforts to find compromise or solutions seem fruitless. 

I believe the Jesus follower chooses a better way. 
-We have the humility to listen, knowing that nothing about us is perfect, including our beliefs. God had to die for us wretches, after all. 
-We welcome conversations that are challenging with those who are different because we know we always have a lot to learn and this may be another opportunity.
-We speak with truth AND love. Love without complete truth is enablement. Truth without love will never be heard because… you sound like a butthead. 
-We honor the God-given-Jesus-died-for dignity of every human being, even our enemies, by at least trying to understand their beliefs, perspective, and cultural narrative. 
-And we do actually try to understand others rather than just win arguments. The most loving thing you can do for someone with whom you disagree is understand and represent their argument fairly. 90% of frustration in disagreement comes from feeling “misunderstood” or “misrepresented” by the opposing voice. 

Boiling it down, what I’m saying is this… The Jesus follower intentionally cultivates diversity in their life. God is an artist, and every person is another portrait that can lend us perspective on Him. #JesusIsWhy“