the gentle green of grass
hides
a universe of small things

tiny red ladybugs

busy black ants

goofy daddy-long-legs
and other i don't know what to call
since i'm not a scientific person

but i can lay on my belly
eye-level
with this universe
and restfully observe
from my giant gulliverian perspective
the world
of the grass forest

Dancing with a lion

All my life I've known you, God,
Trusted you,
Questioned you,
Dreamed about you,
Talked to you.
I've read books about you
And I've read what you've written
To me.

Now suddenly
None of it seems true.
The hurt I feel is so huge
The hole in my heart so deep
I wonder if you ever were there at all.

Have you heard anything I've ever said?
Have you felt my love?
Have you been there in the dark when I thought I felt
Your presence?

Well, it's darker now,
And I'm not sure anymore.

Have I been dancing with a lion all this time?

Questions. Terror. Loneliness. Sickness.

The ghastly feeling that I've been deceived,
That what you promised is not true.
Why should I believe in You
If you're not real,
If you don't care?

But I can't let go of my childhood trust.
If you're not real, then I must still believe
In what I dream you to be.
Because the dream is worth more
Than reality without You.

Even if You kill me
I will trust you.
A wise man, a desperate man, once said that.

Even a lion can be gentle.

Tools for the Healing Process

Those of us who have struggled through abuse, particularly of se*ual abuse, need much healing. At a core level, we have been violated. Our trust has been broken. Those we love are sometimes the perpetrators; or it could be a stranger. It could be harassment at the office...childhood incidents that are frightening...teenage experimenting gone wrong...anything.

One of God's amazing tools in the healing arsenal is this:

The power of His written Word.

God's word is ALIVE. The old English uses the word "quick"- which is the opposite of dead.

Even when we don't feel anything happening, as we listen to/read His word, it will bring healing. It's ALIVE!

Jeremiah 15:16 “Your words came to me, and I listened carefully to them. Your words made me very happy, because I am called by your name, Lord God All-Powerful.”

1 Peter 2:2 “As newborn babies want milk, you should want the pure and simple teaching (of the word). By it you can grow up and be saved…” (italics mine)

As you begin the healing journey, take out the Word of God and begin to "eat it" in your spirit. Healing is on the way; healing is in His word.

holiness

the measure of my days
yea, even the moments

the long years of habit
of screening life
through Your eyes

WWJD as a silent standard
always in my mind

i'm skipping over some of my WINGS notes (the definitions of, descriptions of, effects of se*ual abuse as it's just too graphic for a blog that children read...) and going straight to the recovery process that we have found to be effective and helpful.

Recovery Process

Facing the Situation Honestly

One of the hardest things to do is to look honestly at the mess of our lives. Looking at the horror and unfairness of what has happened to us, and looking at what we have contributed to the mess over the years, takes a brave heart. But we must honestly and bravely face the damage in our lives as we begin the process of rebuilding.

It doesn’t do any good to bury the memories or the thoughts or the anger. It has to be brought out into the light to be healed and fixed. Hiding is a cop-out. No matter how painful the process is, it is more painful to hide it all inside.

Receiving Help and Hope

The important thing to realize is that we are not alone. We need each other. We must be in a support group with others who have faced the same challenges. And we must believe that we have a God who desires to enter into our lives and restore and heal.


to be continued...

several years ago we began a support group for people in our church who had been sexually abused. i made a brief set of teaching notes to help with their healing process. perhaps it will help someone else who reads this.

by faith, i'll share these, hoping it helps a wounded soul somewhere!

“WINGS”

Wounded Individuals New in God’s Strength
(A support group for sexually abused people)

“He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will take refuge”…Ps. 91:4

“How excellent is your lovingkindness, O God! That’s why the children of men put their trust under the shadow of Your wings.” Ps. 36:7

“…to you who fear (honor) my name the Sun of righteousness shall arise with healing in his wings…you will jump around like well-fed calves. Then you will crush the wicked like ashes under your feet on the day I will do this, says the Lord All-Powerful” Malachi 4:2-3

Our creed:

• I am not alone

• It wasn’t my fault

• I can forgive

• I will be healed


more to come...

on a lighter note...

THE
NEXT SURVIVOR
SERIES
Six married men
will be dropped on an island
with one car
and 3 kids each
for six weeks.

Each kid will play two sports
and take either music or dance classes.

There is no fast food.

Each man must
take care of his 3 kids;
keep his assigned house clean,
correct all homework,
complete science projects,
cook,
do laundry,
and pay a list of 'pretend' bills
with not enough money.

In addition,
each man
will have to budget enough money
for groceries each week.

Each man
must remember the birthdays
of all their friends and relatives,
and send cards out on time--no emailing.

Each man must also take each child
to a doctor's appointment,
a dentist appointment
and a haircut appointment.

He must make one unscheduledand
inconvenient visit per child to theEmergency Room.

He must also make cookies orcupcakes
for a school function.

Each man will be responsible for
decorating his own assigned house,
planting flowers outside, and keeping it
presentable at all times.

The men will only have access to television
when the kids are asleep and all chores are done.

The men must shave their legs,

wear makeup daily,

adorn themselves with jewelry,

wear uncomfortable yet stylish shoes,

keep fingernails polished,

and eyebrows groomed

During one of the six weeks,

the men will have to endure severe
abdominal cramps, backaches, headaches,
have extreme, unexplained mood swings
but never once complain or slow down
from other duties.

They must attend weekly school meetings
and church,
and find time at least once to spend
the afternoon at the park or a similar
setting.


They will need to read a book to the kids each night
and in the morning,
feed them,
dress them,
brush their teeth and
comb their hair
by 7:30 am.


A test will be given
at the end of the six weeks,
and each father will be required to know
all of the following information:
each child's
birthday,
height, weight,
shoe size, clothes size,
doctor's name,
the child's weight at birth,
length, time of birth,
and length of labor,
each child's favorite color,
middle name,
favorite snack,
favorite song,
favorite drink,
favorite toy,
biggest fear,
and what they want to be when they grow up.

The kids vote them off the island based on performance.

The last man wins only if...
he still
has enough energy
to be intimate with his spouse
at a moment's notice.


If the last man does win,
he can play the game over and over and over
again for the next 18-25 years,
eventually earning the right
to be called Mother!


After you get done laughing,
send this to as many females as
you think will get a kick out of it and
as many men as you think can handle it.
Just don't send it back to me....

I'm going to bed.

i found this old poem many years ago when my older children were small. i loved it- still do- and given my background of old english style literature, the ancient words thrill me. i continue to pray today for all my children, especially my little emma, and my grandchildren, that they will be guarded by the ONE who shed His blood for all of us. Therein is our safety!

BENEATH THE BLOOD STAINED LINTEL

Beneath the blood-stained lintel, I with my children stand;
A messenger of evil is passing through the land.
There is no other refuge from the destroyer’s face,
Beneath the blood-stained lintel, shall be our hiding place.

The Lamb of God has suffered, our sins and griefs He bore;
By faith the blood is sprinkled above our dwelling’s door.
The foe who seeks to enter will fear that sacred sign;
Tonight the blood-stained lintel shall shelter me and mine.

My Savior, for my dear ones, I claim Thy promise true.
The Lamb is for the household- the children’s Savior too.
Oh Thou who gave them, guard them- those wayward little feet,
The wilderness before them, the ills of life to meet.

My mother-love is helpless; I trust them to Thy care!
Beneath the blood-stained lintel, oh keep us ever there!
The faith I rest upon Thee, Thou wilt not disappoint;
With Wisdom, Lord, to train them, my shrinking heart anoint.

Without my children, Father, I cannot see Thy face;
I plead the blood-stained lintel, Thy covenant of grace.
Oh Wonderful Redeemer, Who suffered for our sake,
When o’er the guilty nations the judgment storm shall break,
With joy from that safe shelter may we then meet Thine eye,
Beneath the blood-stained lintel, my children, Lord, and I.

i took 3 little girls swimming today. emma, sarah joy, and cath. (daughter, granddaughter, foster granddaughter)

this is quite a production when you live where i live. (metro manila)

it involves 3 hours of driving. (because of the traffic...it's actually only about 20 km to the complex) not just me, but the person who had to drive sarah joy and cath to my house too. they are about 12 km away from me.


it involves an awesome picnic lunch (corned beef and rice), cold drinks, (coke, marinda orange, yakult - which emma calls "COLT"- chocolate milk, and ice water), homemade choc chip cookies, fresh yellow mangoes, chips, and hard candies to suck in the van for tummies that don't like traveling. (that would be emma and cath.)

towels. blankets. bathing suits. sunscreen. camera. oh, and a red checkered tablecloth and napkins, without which no picnic is complete.

watching little girls laugh, play, splash, interact, make new friends, and enjoy God's beautiful creation, is just THE BEST. they picked flowers and decorated our bodega. they wrote their names on the pebbles. they giggled, played hide and seek, and did cannonballs. they practiced all their swim strokes. they were in absolute child heaven for an afternoon.

this is why i live! ;)

all it takes is one text or phone call to throw one's whole world off balance.

the words "hospital" "bleeding" "ultrasound"

ring in my ears.

i pray.

i muster the troops to prayer.

i continue all the activities of my daily life, driving, child care, cooking, husband care, etc....

but my mind is praying. my mind is thousands of miles away with a precious loved one who is in trouble.

and i am just human...

how much more our Father- when something unforeseen and terrible happens- He does not stop running the universe,

but he cares. he thinks. he works. he hears those prayers and he works on our behalf according to his will,

while making sure that planets do not collide, that the earth is tilted just at the right degree, that the sun continues to provide light and warmth to our little corner of the galaxy.

text him- so to speak.

call him- so to speak.

Just like the old song...."Jesus on the mainline, now".

He's there. and he is not thrown off balance. He knows. He cares.

Jehovah-Shammah- the God who is THERE.

so i had an adventure today.

a dog adventure. dennis says, "why do these things happen to you????" to which i have no reply.

i take the dogs to animal house for their shots and de-worming so i can get the barangay clearance for their registrations. (new makati rule, sigh.)

this involves a lot of work. rose takes tigger, i take sammy. they fight when they get leashed at the same time. also when they get fed or put outside. DOGFIGHT.

so rose takes tigger down to the van first, i follow with sam. can't put them in the elevator together.

i put sammy in the back of the van, tie his leash tightly to the handhold thingie. then rose gets in with tigger and i tie him also.

then we drive to animal house. no problems on the journey.

get to animal house.

it's 4 in the afternoon, about 25 dogs inside, plus miscellaneous rabbits, cats, and a bird or two.

my dogs are snarling. i can't stand the smell inside so i opt to sit outside with sam while rose registers us. (DID I MENTION I HAVE ASTHMA.)

while sitting outside, a beggar boy comes up to me begging for money. he pulls up his t-shirt and shows me a huge wound on his belly that looks like a hernia or huge boil. sammy is going mental barking at him, so i move to the other side of the parking lot.

finally i go check at the door and rose beckons that we can come in.

without too much fuss, tigger is given his shots. nice doctor. ears cleaned, nails clipped. done.

sammy, now, is a different story.

he growls. he snarls. he wiggles and almost falls off the treatment table several times. finally rose and i take tigger and leave so the vet can deal with sam alone. NO LUCK.

so sam does not get all his nails clipped.

rose takes sammy outside and i stay in with tigger to pay the bill and buy the medicine and get the barangay certificate.

BAD MOVE.

a huge yellow dog, he looks like a cross between a yellow lab and a st. bernard, comes in. he must weigh 150 pounds. he's led by a little old lady. everyone in the waiting room visibly becomes nervous...

and, just in my style of luck, TIGGER GOES BALLISTIC.

now, when tigger is in a rage, my husband has difficulty holding him. he's 28 pounds of pure solid muscle, with a neck like a horse.

TIGGER LAUNCHES HIMSELF THRU THE AIR TO THE BIG DOG, AND THE BIG DOGS LUNGES FOR TIGGER.

i am holding tigger with the heavy duty chain wrapped around my hand. i can't hold him. i drag him back and lock his head between my knees. both dogs are barking full volume. people in the waiting room are screaming. tiny dogs are barking. rabbits are quivering in their cages as the huge dog throws his body around and bumps their cages. the little old lady puts her arms around the massive body and buries his head in her bosom. "it's ok, it's ok" she assures all of us.

yeah right. maybe she can control her dog, but i cannot control mine.

i am holding tigger with all my might. hands numb. i've got his head between my knees which are about to give out.

the little old lady bundles the elephant dog around to the back wall of the clinic, his WOOF WOOF causing more screaming.

i begin to waddle across the room, tigger's head between my knees STILL, slapping his head over and over and shouting STOP, STOP!!!!

i reach the door. rush outside. hurry him over to rose and sammy (DOGFIGHT ENSUES THERE NOW TOO) and go back inside to wait for the bill. my hands are throbbing, red and swollen.

big dog is still WOOFING.

i pay the bill, get the medicine, and repeat the procedure of putting the dogs in the van. i drive home.

this has taken 2 hours.

i am exhausted.

i love my dogs. sometimes.

such a beautiful day today...

even though it's monday and mondays are sometimes...well, tricky.

blue sky. sunshine. fluffy clouds. warm temperatures.

daddy's home, and together we had bacon and pancakes for breakfast.

profitable work to do.

a life to live.

a little girl to raise.

friends to talk to.

grown-up children to enjoy.

grandchildren to adore.

an aging body that is, like mondays, a bit tricky, but for the most part, when taken care of properly, responds with energy and grace.

(my knees remind me not to wear high heels again for a very long time...)

ah yes. a lovely day.

we have lived in manila (metro) for 23 years. this is our city, our home. we love the people, the climate, the history, the leadership (yes, it's true- by faith we love them!) and the future of it.

we love it. more than that, we are in love with this teeming, crowded metropolis that is home to rich and poor alike. and some in-between.

this city has a chaos all its own. once you get used to it, there is a sort of go-with-the-flow way of life here.

everyone talks about the traffic. well, there is no point in complaining about it. too many cars and not enough streets.

we have beautiful tree-filled subdivisions, and we have squatter villages built on garbage.

we have cultural places, museums, historical sites, and even a zoo- altho i've never been there. (don't like seeing animals in cages).

metro manila has history. it has beauty. it has horror. it has more malls than anywhere else in the world.

much of the time the air quality is bad.

we have cities within cities- acres and acres of high-rises. beautiful modern buildings. excellent hospitals and some not-so-excellent.

have i mentioned that i love this city?

why, you ask.

because this is home.

we have history here. everywhere we go, there's a memory. "remember when we took the kids here?" "remember that time we had dinner on the floating ship on the bay?" "remember the time we had a flat tire in the middle of the political demonstration?"

and so on.

we've lived many places in this city. now we are planning to move further south, to a cleaner newer subdivision with wide streets and green grass.

that, too, will be home. and a place to make memories.

when God sends you somewhere, he gives you the grace you need to live there.

and it becomes home. the prairies where we both grew up are part of our beloved past, but chances are we will never live on them again- the winter snow and the dusty winds of prairie summers are gone- for us.

this is home. a tropical island city- with its negatives and its positives. including the sunsets, the typhoons, the beautiful brown-skinned people, the brilliant flowers, the warmth and friendliness, the fantastic food, the rich cultural history, and the music- oh, the music...

we are in love- with our city.

WHEREIN I REALIZE JUST HOW SHALLOW MY HUMAN HEART IS...

my friend's son was killed today.

he was 24.

fell asleep at the wheel and as she put it, "woke up in the presence of Jesus."

my heart breaks for her, i even feel the shock and the waves of disbelief that i know she is feeling.

yet a very selfish nasty part of me is so thankful it was her son and not mine.

WHERE DOES THAT COME FROM???

i don't want to ever be the one to get the phone call, the knock at the door...i'm so sorry for her in a deep, personal way...

but i hold off that tragedy at arm's length and in my human weakness, heave a sigh and say, "oh, i'm so glad that wasn't my boy!"

dear god.

help me to enter in to the weeping the way you would, without being grateful.

because...

it could have been my son. it could be my phone ringing.

and then... and then...

i would want someone to enter in to my sorrow, without being happy that THEY were spared.

oh, the shallowness of my human heart. i need more REAL (agape) love.

dearest friend, i weep for your tears. i'm so sorry. i have no platitudes, nothing but tears for you.


nothing but tears.

"weep with those that weep..."

well, today really is friday.

all day yesterday i thought it was friday. that was how bad wednesday was....bad enough for two days.

this has been a horrible week.

medical issues- won't go into detail.

i am feeling better...drove for 3 hours today all around the city.

AND.

i found a new hypermarket that i am in love with.

it's out in the province, far far away.

i was the only white person in the whole mall...and i think MOST of them had never seen one before.

emma wanted noodles and "kung fu panda" fish balls for lunch. DON'T ASK. she did not eat them.

but she did ride some of the little kid rides in the arcade. she loved that. it was VERY NOISY in there and we got stared at a fair bit. the last thing we did was play a little ball game and she got 20 points worth of stickers so that was worth two lovely hair bands which she put on her wrist for bracelets and she was thrilled.

i had siopao for lunch. (google it)

then on our way home we stopped for a while and just smelled the flowers. you can do that out in the province.

I LOVE THE COUNTRY! i'm done being a city girl. back to my roots. perhaps i should buy a cow. i do know how to milk!!! and make butter and cheese!

YEEHAW!

can you tell i'm feeling better?

this is a lovely tropical fruit called "atis" here in the Philippines.

i don't know what it is in English.

when you open it, soft white grainy flesh surrounds big black seeds. you have to be careful when eating it that the seeds don't slip down your throat.

but...it's delicious.

you just have to spit out the seeds.

sometimes life is like that.

beautiful and nutritious, but with tricky bits.

i actually took this photo, believe it or not.

it reminds me to chew slowly and carefully, and not absorb what is not necessary.

:) and yes, i'm feeling much better- thanks for asking!

i spend today in bed with the first migraine i've had in a long while.

perhaps it has something to do with the new hair color...

or not. :/

regardless-

i am feeling somewhat better as evening approaches,

and maybe a day spent in pain- eyes covered, body shuddering, and inner heart-voice calling out to God- is not wasted..

C.S. Lewis said, "God shouts to us in our pain."

"hear my cry, O God, attend unto my prayer..."

so this is what all the fuss is about.

i changed my hair color. (from medium red to a dark red brown.)

immediately, i began to notice people staring at me. men, specifically.

you know that feeling? the glance, then the second glance?

i actually got followed and then approached. two different guys. blech.

lots of people have said it's because my eyes suddenly look very blue! news flash- they've always been blue!

whatever.

not sure i like this. i am almost 60, after all.

:/

my girlie and her yellow ducky.

have i mentioned that i love my emma-girl???

she is at a very THREE stage. not quite little girl, not quite baby. moments of both- and she mixes them up just to keep me on my toes.

she bosses me around when she is in the "mama" role, and i am her "sweetheart". then she gets tired of that, and says, "my sweetheart, i'm done being the mom..."

oh little girlie. someday you will understand that once you are a mom, you are never done. every moment of the rest of your life is motherhood. the joy, the terror, the bliss and the pain. it's never done.

once a mom, always a mom.

i'm tired.

it's been a crazy week.

i've had numerous medical tests, none of which will i have results for till later this week. i've been having palpitations at night for several weeks now. scary to wake up with your heart pounding hard like it's going to blow out of your chest...and not being able to breathe right. during the day i'm fine, even doing exercise. when i did the treadmill stress test, it was my knee that gave out, not my heart.

however.

i am encouraging myself in God.

i will trust and not be afraid.

i speak to my body, thanking it for being so dependable for all these years. (nigh onto 60!)

i rejoice in the health i do have, and in the great doctors i've found.

tonight, tho i'm just tired...and a little blue, cuz daddy has flown away to india again...

but tomorrow is another day full of God's mercies (plural) and i'm sure after a night's rest i'll be just fine.

good night, world.

knees to the earth.

praying the past few days for so many different things and people.

wanderers.

searchers.

strugglers and stragglers.

situations that seems hopeless...circumstances that surprise...

on my knees. my heart is on its knees.

pray without ceasing.

never never give up.

God is listening- more than that, He is at work even when i do not see.

his word has all the promises i need to hold on to, and when i grow weary, i just relax and rest in His bottomless reservoir of truth.

he said it, i believe it, that settles it.

knees to the earth...in worship, in work.

prayer is the work of the church, someone said.

he sees my attitude of prayer, whether i'm driving, cooking, bathing a little brown girl, exercising, writing, shopping...

he sees my heart- on its knees.

Little Miss Emma, Daddy's secretary in training...at the big, big desk!



when our oldest daughter charity was about 4 or 5, she started being Daddy's secretary too. he has sweet memories of her filing, filing, filing for him...now, 30 some years later, another little girl if helping him out too- the delight of his old age... chuckle!

nothing nicer than a Daddy's girl helping him out and learning that ministry is fun...

this beautiful face is my granddaughter Annarose. the other day we were skyping (she lives in vancouver canada...i live in the Philippines); i think she was lonely because she and her older brother caleb were at home alone. mom and dad had gone out to a concert. they are certainly old enough to be left on their own, but whatever...rosie wanted to skype.

for 3 1/2 hours, we skyped/chatted at the same time. one of the cousins who lives here chimed in, and caleb as well; he was going from room to room as we talked. it was goofy.

rosie started to get so sleepy; caleb had gone to bed, elijah (here) on to other activities. the boys were smacktalking so i was glad when they quit; rose was horrified at their language. (it wasn't real bad, just 12-year-old boy talk, you know. nini (grandma) is shocked by nothing).

i told her to brush her teeth, and get into bed with the computer beside her and emma and i would watch her go to sleep. i began reading books to emma, rosie listening and watching quietly. within about ten minutes, she drifted off to sleep. it was simply awesome to watch this lovely girl close her eyes and begin to breathe deeply and just relax to the sound of my voice and emma's little voice chirping.

what a tremendous privilege as a long-distance grandmother, to virtually babysit and even put to sleep, this beautiful child. my heart was so grateful.

i did not stop watching her until mommy came into the room in vancouver far-away and said, "mom, are you still there?" and i was.

i had promised, you see. to watch her while she slept. to watch till mom and dad came home.

promises must be kept.

reminds me of SOMEONE else i know.

his promises must be kept. and they always are.

a bedful of boys! and one little rose tucked in too...can you spot her?

boys...busy, belligerent, bubbly, blustery, burping, boys.

love 'em.

it's much easier to grow a boy than to fix a man.

God bless our boys.

(and the little rose, too...)

strange how the world adjusts.

it rolls on, forgetful of the significance of a day.

easter is over.

chocolate bunnies eaten. hams consumed. travels to family done.

monday- back to work, world.

but in my heart, it's easter always.

the lingering fragrance of a risen Lord, his robes perfumed with the scent of a heavenly place, is still here.

the 40 days he walked among the citizens of jerusalem are still a mystery.

the dead who rose from their graves and lived again, returning to homes and families who had all but forgotten them, - well, this is just a huge mystery.

but real.

wish i'd been there...to see it all.

i wrote this when i was about 12 or 13...and i still sense the incredible aura of hope and disbelief that must have been in that moment of recognition.


Easter Dawn

She crept, weary from the night of aching sorrow,
Her heart heavy with the dark of despair,
Into the field where the tomb was.
The morning dew was cool on her sandaled feet,
And the rising sun slanted golden rays
On the stone.

She wept;
She bowed her head
And wept for Christ.

A sudden Presence
Rustled at her side.
She whispered, thinking
It was the gardener.
“He is gone, sir!”

But the birds overhead were silent,
The breeze stilled.

She looked up, and as she gazed
Her face grew light
With the dawn of Easter joy.

Jesus said, “Mary!”

it's saturday.

the kids are here for a sleep over. 5 boys (M, Franz, Gil, Brian Joy, and Patrick) and merry faye. elijah was out with his own buddies for a very belated birthday treat.

emma was ecstatic to go swimming with all her "kids". she just jumps into the pool with them and away she goes. fortunately she has a very floaty swimsuit with lots of styro pockets!

then we came home to a big spaghetti supper. played the smartie game (rules invented by us) and papa played too which is always more fun. then...we had homemade banana splits.

then- more bugs bunny cartoons. papa has a cd of the old, antique ones with the accents and all. the boys love it. actually merry faye is watching 2012 in the blue room.

yes, it's saturday.

and if you would like to know what the smartie game is, ask me and i'll be happy to share!

easter weekend.

the single most important time in christianity's history.

good friday.

a time of darkness, of weeping, of blood and shame and grief.

a day of infamy.

but....someone sent me these words today...

"Jesus did not have to die, He chose to! He told His captors, "I could ask my Father for thousands of angels....and He would send them instantly....But if I did, how would the Scriptures be fulfilled that described what is happening now?" The force behind the hammer was not an angry mob....the hand squeezing the handle was not a Roman infantry-man....the verdict....was not decided by jealous Jews. Jesus Himself chose the nails....Had the soldier hesitated Jesus Himself would have swung the mallet."

THAT IS HOW MUCH GOD LOVES ME.

Jesus, thank you for the cross.

for after the cross, comes a new day.

a day of light, and laughter, and life and joy and peace.

Jesus, thank you for the empty tomb.

Father God, thank you for the plan- the master plan from before the foundation of the world.

it worked! and we rejoice.

happy easter, everyone.