This morning as I listened to Alistair Begg as he read a letter. It was the kind of letter I hate to hear because it is designed to get at my heart strings and I guard them vigorously. It was a letter written by a young women who had a terminal condition and the end was approaching. As I listened I could sense the joy in the young woman’s life because her focus was on Jesus and the hope that was in her.
The letter was written to her family and the part that got past my defenses was when she said she was always thankful for the family and friends that God had given her. They had been such a blessing to her. I was reminded of how blessed I am and how I take it for granted.
As I have described other times I go through a ritual every morning with my baguette and coffee. They become my bread and cup for a personal Eucharist. I recite to myself as I hold the piece of sourdough, “The Lord Jesus, on the night He was betrayed, took bread, and after giving thanks He broke it...” I have a list of things I work through. I start with the fact that I made it through the rush hour renegades without damage or breakdown. I am thankful for my family and lift each of them up. I then work through concerns from internet friends to local needs.
It is easy for a ritual to become a habit instead of an encounter. We can get so in a rut, even with good things, that they become ritual in the empty sense instead of ritual saturated with meaning.
So this morning I am reminded, because of a young lady that has died and gone to be with the Lord , that I need to keep my attitude of thanks and trust alive and on the front burner.
It is a good start for the day.
homo unius libri
Amen, brother.
ReplyDeleteDon't you have a secret place in your mind where you wonder if someday, maybe 50 years down the road, someone will read something your write and be encouraged?
DeleteGrace and peace.