He Has Made Me Glad!

"I will extol Thee, O Lord; for Thou hast lifted me up, and hast not made my foes to rejoice over me.
"O Lord my God, I cried unto Thee and Thou hast healed me.
"O Lord, Thou hast brought up my soul from the grave: Thou hast kept me alive, that I should not go down to the pit.
"Sing unto the Lord, O ye saints of His, and give thanks at the remembrance of His holiness....
"Lord, by Thy favor Thou hast made my mountain to stand strong: Thou didst hide thy face, and I was troubled.
"I cried to Thee, O Lord; and unto the Lord I made supplication.
"What profit is there in my blood, when I go down to the pit? Shall the dust praise Thee? shall it declare Thy truth?
"Hear, O Lord, and have mercy upon me: Lord, be Thou my helper.
"Thou hast turned for me my mourning into dancing: Thou hast put off my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness;
"To the end that my glory may sing praise to Thee, and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks unto Thee forever."
Psalm 30:1-4,7-12

Good and Faithful

About Anne Nailor, September 16, 1943-June 4, 2008

We are created in the image of God. We are all different, one from another. Each of us is unique.

Each of us has specific and particular shades and shadows, lines and textures of spirit, soul and body. The shades and shadows, the lines and textures were put there by God. When we're all seen together -- all the people He has called and will call to Himself over this long span of time He has set in place -- when we're all seen together we are a portrait of our God.

Each of us is unique. In our attempts to please others, sometimes we scar that "unique-ness." In our desire to be whatever it is that we think we're supposed to be we forget to be who God made us to be. Anne never did.

Anne was perseveringly Anne Nailor, and she was one of a kind, the only one of her kind, and she was always being and discovering who God made her to be.

Anne was a builder in the body of Christ. Her building blocks were notes and cards that carried words from the heart of the Lord Jesus to literally hundreds and hundreds of people all around the world. So far as I know, the notes and cards she sent were unerringly right on the mark.

Anne was a builder in the body of Christ. She didn't have nations in her heart -- she had people in her heart. By her notes and cards she built people, and because she built people she left a mark in the nations.

Anne remembered -- always -- to be and discover who God made her to be. She was perseveringly Anne Nailor. For this, I will remember her.

Utterly Different

Different. Holy means utterly, wholly, completely, entirely, fully different. Nobody like the Holy One. A friend used to say, "He's the only One in His category." And He is, this God of ours.

We long to be different. Even when we run with the crowd it's because the crowd is different, set apart in some way from ordinary folk, maybe by colors, a style of dress, a language, secret words that mean secret things that only the crowd knows, maybe set apart by honors bestowed or criticism rendered. Even when we run with the crowd we long to be different.

And we are. there is a flavor to us, to you and to me, a flavor that God put there. It's the flavor of Himself, His image, and nobody else has it, or will ever have it, not just the way you have it and not just the way I have it. It's something God wanted to do. He wanted something of Himself in the earth,something of His likeness, and so all of those He held in Himself before anything came to be (Ephesians 1:3-4), all of us and each of us, got something of His image and each of us got something different.

Oh, it's marred and blurred and dim sometimes, and there's a lot of "not Him" that has to be wiped away and washed away or scraped away before the resemblance can be clearly seen, but it's there. We are different. I am different. You are different. Each of us, one of a kind, designed by God. Only in Him is our different-ness discovered, cleaned up and polished up and ready to be enjoyed.

We long to be different because we are.

The Cry Re-directed

"To You I will cry, O Lord my Rock:
Do not be silent to me,
Lest, if You are silent to me,
I become like those who go
down into the pit."
Psalm 28:1

Forgive, Lord, my Rock, for the times I've cried to others and not to You. For the times my expectation has been in men -- and women -- who are frail, who fail, who stumble and fumble along Your path, as I do.

Your step is always steady. Your step is firm. You, my Rock, never need a course correction. I can walk behind You, run behind You, dance behind You, and You keep my feet from falling. I will walk with You, run, with You, dance with You in the land of the living, and, therefore, I will not despair.

On Time

"...You have created all things and for Your pleasure"-- that is, to bring a smile to Your face and fullness to Your purpose -- "for Your pleasure they are and were created."
(Revelation 4:11)

Yesterday. Where did it go? Yesterday was a good day. There was purpose in yesterday, a sense of accomplishment. Yesterday there was a conversation, low and slow, with that special one who brings into the room a quiet joy, a sense of discovery. Yesterday there was a good book to read. There was music. And yesterday there was rest in the way life is stepping out just now. Yesterday was a good day. Where did it go? The taste remains and the fragrance, but the minutes are gone and the hours. The whole of today, it will go also, too quickly in my thinking, like a vapor, here and then every bit not here.

Time.

This very time...this right-now time...I open my hand and I have it! I really have it, this remarkable moment, and then I close my hand, to touch, to hold, to cherish, to keep, and suddenly it's gone as if it had never been at all. Only the taste, only the fragrance, only the mark on my heart remains.

Time.

Time cannot be corraled...penned up...shut in...held fast. Of all the things in this space that sits in eternity, of all the things, these perhaps are most elusive: hours and minutes that become days and months that become seasons and years. They are mine, wholly mine, and yet never really mine at all.

Time.

Created as are all things for You, O God...Lord...time cannot be held on to or expanded or lengthened or diminished or altered or manipulated. People can be manipulated. Circumstances can be manipulated. Resources can be manipulated. We can tame tigers and turn dogs wild. We can change the clocks to "save" daylight hours anad we can turn on lights in the night. But time? Of all created things time is perhaps the only thing that cannot be manipulated. I can watch it pass, squandered and unappreciated. I can watch it pass and grieve the passing because I have valued what has been. I can watch it pass and cry out against its pace, too fast or too slow, but I can neither detain it nor hurry it on its way.

Time.

It is what it is. It can be all that it is as I choose to live by every word that proceeds from the mouth of the God Who created it and Whose pleasure it is to mark it 'redeemed' and fill it up with remarkable moments that rhyme with His heart.

Integrity?

"Judge me, O Lord, for I have walked in my integrity..."
(Psalm 26:1 KJV)

Have I walked in my integrity?

Integrity means 'all of one piece.' It means what's on the outside is what's on the inside.

I've fallen many times, made many bad moves, done a lot of dumb things, responded to a variety of situations in a variety of bad ways.

When I've fallen I've stood to my feet as quickly and as gracefully as possible. When I've made bad moves I've received Your course correction. I've endured the consequences of the dumb things I've done and I've learned in the enduring. I've suffered the results of my bad responses and I've learned, slowly, other ways of responding.

Have I walked in my integrity?

I've walked in who I am -- in the joy, in the strength of Your life in me. In sorrow and pain I've crouched under Your wing and waited. I've tasted victory and I've sucked on loss. I see in me the beauty of You, the holiness of You and I see the dreary mixture of who I am when my eyes and my heart lose sight of You.

Much to bemoan. Much to celebrate. Much in which to rest content. Much to change. I have presented to You...me...all of a piece. Remarkably, it's what You wanted.

Integrity means 'all of one piece.' Integrity means I am on the outside what I am on the inside.

Judge me, O Lord -- measure, weigh, sift, and then finish that good work which You have begun.

I have walked in my integrity.

In Silence

"My God, my God, why have You forsaken me? Why are You so far from helping me? And from the words of my roaring?
"Oh, my God, I cry in the daytime, but You do not hear; and in the night season, and am not silent.
"But You are holy..."
(Psalm 22:1-3a)

You, God, are holy. You are utterly different than anything or anyone else. Nothing, nobody is like You. Only You are like You. And yet I interpret You by the things around me, by the people and events of my history and of my present, but You are not like the people and events of my history and of my present. I can understand and interpret You only by You.

You are holy. In silence You have not left me or ignored me or heard and seen and not cared. In silence You have not forsaken me. In silence Your love is constant.

In silence You are not far from helping me. You are not without answer or without strength or without plan.

In silence You surround me. You are my answer. Your strength is heavy in silence. In silence You weave Your plan into my days and into my nights.

In silence You are holy.