I removed the burden from their shoulders; their hands were set free from the basket. Ps 81:7 and I rescued you out of a thundercloud; I tested you at the waters of Meribah. Hear me, my people, and I will warn you—-- if you would only listen to me, Israel! I am the Lord your God, who brought you up out of Egypt.
Open wide your mouth and I will fill it. Psalm 81:10 The treasure of His Grace is inexhaustible. We could never open our mouths wide enough for His Hand.
Psalm 88 - God, you're my last chance of the day. I spend the night on my knees before you ...
Take notes on the trouble I'm in ...
You turned my friends against me ...
Blinded by tears of pain and frustration ...
My only friend left is Darkness ...
Pain.
Frustration.
What do I do with that?
You put the arrogant ocean in its place
You put your arrogant child in moments like today
that I may see into my heart.
I've thought a whole lot this year about the story of the Prodigal Son. In his book about the prodigal, Henri Nouwen writes: "Can I let the younger and older son grow in me to the maturity of the compassionate father?" The father is who I must become, he writes. As the father deals with his own anger and loneliness, his anger turns to solitude and his loneliness turns to gratitude. I am that younger and older brother. Frustration. Anger. Pain. Can you grow both of my sides into a compassion that moves into the lives of others in the midst of my own mess?
PHOTO: The faces of the people in Budapest still haunt me. So sullen. So sad. So striking. The distrust of Communism still runs through the prideful Danube River. They are not a free people. God raise them up to be like the father running for joy to his sons.
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