Though the fig tree should not blossom,
nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail
and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold
and there be no herd in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the LORD;
I will take joy in the God of my salvation.
GOD, the Lord, is my strength;
he makes my feet like the deer’s;
he makes me tread on my high places.
-Habakkuk 3:17-19
Father who breathed into this daughter…
I pray for this girl being formed into eternity.
May the wind always be in her hair
May the sky always be wide with hope above her
And may all the hills be an exhilaration
the trials but a trail,
all the stones but stairs to God.
God, clothe this girl in a gown of grace
Grace,
the only dress that makes beautiful,
the style of Your spirit.
Nourish her on the comfort food of the Word,
Word, that makes her crave more of Christ,
have hunger pangs for Him.
Enclose her in communion with You
You,
Love who makes her love, who folds her heart
into a roof
that absorbs storms for souls,
that makes her tongue speak only the words that make souls stronger.
May her vocation in this world simply be translation.
Translating every enemy into esteemed guest
Translating every countenance into the face of Christ
Translating every burden into blessing
When it’s hard to be patient… make her willing to suffer
When it’s ridiculous to be thankful … make her see all is grace
When it’s radical to forgive … make her live the foundation of our faith
And when it’s time to work… make her a holy wonder.
May she be bread and feed many with her life and her laughter
May she be thread and mend brokeness and knit hearts
May she be dead to all ladders & never go higher,
only lower, to the lonely, the least & the longing
Her led of the Spirit to lead many to the Cross
that leads to the tomb wildly empty.
Oh, and raise me, Lord, from the deadness of my own sins
to love this beautiful girl like You do…
In the name of Christ who rose
and appeared first
to one of His daughters…
Amen.
-Ann Voskamp
-Andrei Rublev, Trinity Icon
I will not hurry through this day!
Lord, I will listen by the way,
To humming bees and singing birds,
To murmuring trees and friendly words;
And for the moments in between
Seek glimpses of Thy great Unseen.
I will not hurry through this day,
I will take time to think and pray;
I will look up into the sky
Where fleecy clouds and swallows fly;
And somewhere in the day, maybe,
I will catch whispers, Lord, from
Thee!
-Ralph Spaulding Cushman
IF
my attitude be one of fear, not faith,
about one who has disappointed
me;
If I say, “Just what I expected,” if a
fall occurs,
then I know nothing of Calvary love.
-Amy Carmichael, If
-William Wilberforce, A Practical View of Real Christianity
Dear Christ,
help me to take the common things of life and make them beautiful.
Help me to do this today. Let me not wait until tomorrow, or next week,
or next summer for my joy; help me to find it today in the common task,
in accustomed places, with the comrades of my home or market place.
But I cannot do it alone. Dear Christ, I cannot do it alone. Stay Thou
near by. Thou alone canst glorify the beautiful drudergy of life. Thou
alone canst turn valleys into mountaintops. In Thy presecne is fullness
of joy; at Thy right hand there are pleasures morning, noon and night.
Spirit of Jesus, help me to be a good steward of Thy presence all the day.
Amen.
-Ralph Cushman, A Pocket Prayer Book, 1941
Beyond all Boundaries of Knowing
I went in, I knew not where
and stayed, not knowing, but going
past the boundaries of knowing.
I knew not the place around me,
how I came there or where from,
but seeing where then I found me,
I sensed great things, and grew dumb –
since no words from them would come –
lacking all knowledge, but going
past the boundaries of knowing.
Of piety and of peace
I had perfect comprehension;
solitude without surcease
showed the straight way, whose intention –
too secret for me to mention –
left me stammering, but going
past the boundaries of knowing.
So wholly rapt, so astonished
was I, from myself divided,
that my very senses vanished
and left me there unprovided
with knowledge, my spirit guided
by learning unlearned, and going
past the boundaries of knowing.
He who reaches that place truly
wills himself from self to perish;
all he lately knew, seen newly,
seems trifles unfit to cherish;
his new knowledge grows to flourish
so that he lingers there, going
past the boundaries of knowing.
The higher up one is lifted,
the less one perceives by sight
how the darkest cloud has drifted
to elucidate the night;
He who knows that dark aright
endures forever, by going
past the boundaries of knowing.
This wisdom, wise by unknowing,
wields a power so complete
that the learned wise men throwing
wisdom against it compete
with a force none can defeat,
since their wisdom makes no showing
past the boundaries of knowing.
There is virtue so commanding
in this high knowledge that wit,
human skill and understanding
cannot hope to rival it
in one who knows how to pit
against self his selfless going
past the boundaries of knowing.
And if you should care to learn
what this mode of being wise is,
it is yearnings that discern
the Divine in all its guises,
whose merciful gift and prize is
to confound all knowledge, going
past the boundaries of knowing.
-St. John of the Cross
“Come, living God, when least expected,
when minds are dull and hearts are cold,
through sharpening word and warm affection
revealing truths as yet untold.”
-Alan Gaunt, Come, Living God, when least expected
peacocks for pilgrims 