driving into an approaching storm;
sound waves like the weight of an ocean
tows and currents
and tones
regulating organs

causing calm

some lines are just for me
slow down my heart beat {switchfoot}


the raw and desaturated colors of april
showers in the middle of spring
pearls don’t start out that way.
they develop over time, like wisdom.
in increments, building as it is exercised – like faith.

{you can’t} delete everything in between.

compassion is not afraid of blood. it confronts it with strength and with comfort and conviction. it doesn’t hold back tears.

monday, april 18. 2022.

pearls don’t start out that way.
they develop over time, like wisdom.
in increments, building as it is exercised – like faith.

repetition required.

Building is slower with a sword in one hand and mortar in the other. I have taken issue with increments. Particularly as it pertains to obtaining and experiencing the grace of God by faith. The same perfectionism that demands flawlessness from a being that has never been before {me} reasons that everything should be received in one fell swoop. But faith is a muscle that pulls in loads of harvest. And like arms, the load you can carry – even of good things – depends on the muscles that have developed . . . or not.

I’ve been convicted, but lacking consistency in physical strength training. And I saw more clearly for myself the other day the imagery that is often conveyed . . . I saw arms reaching out from under overalls, hauling in a load. But the small stuff came first. And with it, the muscles grew, allowing for more to come in “all at once” the next time.

Start where you are . . . if you don’t start where you are, you’ll stay where you are.

Sage advice. I’m sure it came over time.

The path of the just; paths of righteousness for His name’s sake get brighter {proverbs 4} because following directions leads to receiving more directions. When I wrote this post the other day, I realized that God was teaching me in the quiet of that day . . . just like I stopped instructing the growth-group babies in effort to get them to rest, God stopped instructing me until I did what He already told me. There is manifold wisdom in the quietness of God. And there is modeling. Children rest better when your cessation of activity signals to them a necessary change in their behavior.

One of my absolute favorite resurrection songs is Skeleton Bones by John Mark McMillan . . . inspired, I assume by Ezekiel 37. In praying about increments and receiving grace{s} by faith, the LORD brought this passage to my attention. It is so rich and bizarre. And believable. We were made from dust. We are the earth-covered breath of God, which – by the way – makes Jesus’ Matthew 3 statement about God being able to create children of Abraham from stones seem a lot less hyperbolic.

It could have been a vision, but either way; these bones that Ezekiel spoke to and over came together in increments, and even then – even though at the outset God included this piece of what should happen in the very first phrasing, the breath was called in separately . . . after the bones were put together enough to be covered in sinews of sound; once the bones where able to receive the breath. We see in the creation of the planet itself {and the successive generations of womb-birthed men} that God chose to perfect {fully develop} His flawless design in increments over time . . . in ages and stages.

I know some small slice of this in playing the Sims {yes, this again; ha.}

In order to solve an aging dilemma, I added a university so that the teenage sims could become adults without their parents becoming seniors quite yet. So my once settled-feeling simulated planet is now in another age of growth and development . . . established on course, but not quite as settled as when there weren’t so many aspirations and careers to work through all at once.

a grandparent’s garden

The most fun thing about this garden is that I have used it to nourish the college sims who don’t have the time, space, or skills to grow the same things as their elders. I have understood more of what God must feel in the satisfying orchestration of getting good to people through other people . . . once a harvest came in, Grandpa Jeremiah Goldstar hosted a dinner party and gifted his university-attending grandaughter Patrice with some of the harvest, as well as three prepped salmon and veggie dishes stored in her inventory. Once I shifted story-perspectives back to Patrice, the gifts from her grandfather were in her inventory to be enjoyed and shared with her roommates, who – again – couldn’t necessarily achieve the same meals on their own. Before Sims can grow the eggplants that give logic points when juiced, they have to grow tomatoes for spaghetti that always seems to set the stove on fire, ha. {iykyk}.

It’s like what I heard a gifted teaching-pastor once say . . . God didn’t design the members of the human body to receive their signals wirelessly . . . they come from the brain, but through nerves and tendons and everything else . . . the body’s other members. The Body of Christ is the same way.

So brilliant is our Maker. I love Him.

God is rich in time. And He teaches us to be by slowing down. Living unhurried. Striving to rest. Receiving in increments.

in/cre/ment: the process of increasing 
in number, size, quantity, or extent.


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