[Update: This picture is representative of where I feel like I'm at. Broke. Moved to the ghetto (6-9 sirens a day in front of our house). Dreams about as faded as they've ever been, but still burning in my bones. More responsibility family-wise than I know what to do with. Highly dissatisfied clients (anyone not paying me, strangly, satisfied). And, yet, I sense that God’s grace is breaking through the imagined shell of oppression… kinda like this picture.
Luke 12:27 Consider the lilies, how they grow. They don’t toil, neither do they spin; yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.
(v. 28) But if this is how God clothes the grass in the field, which today exists, and tomorrow is cast into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith?
Yahweh transcends apparent reality.
That makes me thankful. (written on Thanksgiving 112609)
