Tidbits and a spontaneous poem on my longed-for miracle

 

 

I watched Contagion last night. Seemed an appropriate way to end a day spent sleeping away some kind of virus that left me so dizzy and head-achy, I couldn’t get up for more than 30 minutes.  It was my first night calling in sick at work, something I don’t like to do.

Today I have a sinus headache, but feel much better, so, since it’s fall break and my boys were gnawing at the bit to go do something fall-break like, I took them to Lake Pleasant. They set out to the lake to catch themselves a fish or two while I set up a couple of chairs under an overgrown desert shrub of some kind and read a good portion of a couple books. After a few hours, they came back with a half dozen craw dad’s, a tangled fishing line, no fish and a bruise on one kid’s forehead from said rock thrown by said brother. Time to go home.

I read the story of Elijah vs. the prophets of Baal today in my morning reading.  I always come away from that story wishing I could do that.  And then I remember James:

Elijah was a man with a nature like ours, and he prayed fervently that it might not rain, and for three years and six months it did not rain on the earth.

And Jesus:

But he answered them, “An evil and adulterous generation seeks for a sign, but no sign will be given to it except the sign of the prophet Jonah.”

And I hang my head and say what He says, “Your motives are evil.  Do you want Me or just my gifts? Do you want to be proven right in front of your enemies or do you want Me to be seen as right in their eyes?

There is a sign much greater than calling down fire on a water-logged barbecue pit:  Bending down to love another, with understanding, out of a heart that is overflowing in love.

Even more impossible than fire consuming a pit full of water
Is my heart ablaze with agape for another
 
Utter dependence is exposed
The miraculous is required
I have a need more impossible than heavenly fire
 
But with God all things are possible
No amount of self-denial will twist His arm
No ritual, no moan, no cry, no religious charm
 
Only confidence in the power from above
To set ablaze in me the Spirit-soaked fire of His love
 
 
 
 Quieted,
Sheila

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