our Father is a Good Father!

He delights in giving good gifts to His children!
If I ask Him for bread
why would I think He might give me a stone?
If I ask for a fish
why am I afraid He might hand me a snake?

I’ve had enough of small faith!
I’ve seen enough of His goodness
to know that I can expect to see more!
I’ve been held by Him in the dark
so I will trust He will carry me into the light!

Thank you, Abba!

is God good?

photo credit: Moriah

Do you believe that God is good?

Do you really believe that God is really good?

Do you live like you believe that God is good?

 

What does it mean that God is good?

Does it mean that all that He allows is good?
Or only what He gives directly?
And how does a mere mortal distinguish between the two?

Does it mean that His children will never know sorrow or suffering?
Or that they will only know sorrow and suffering if they need it as punishment?

No?
Then what?

If God is good…then what is good?
Is not God?

Perhaps in order to know good, one must know God.

God is not found by looking at His world.
But once He is found He is clearly seen in His world.
Even then, one must be careful to always return to the Source.
All good – every good and perfect gift – comes from above.
From God Himself.

So then, what does it mean to live like you believe that God is good?

It means searching to find Him everywhere.
The incessant hunger to know Him.
The constant running after Him.
And then, to allow the finding and knowing and loving to flow out.

One who has been justified by faith
and made righteous through the one man, Messiah Yeshua,
walks and lives in righteousness.
And God does not withhold one good thing from those who walk righteously.

Can you truly believe, then, that God will not keep any good thing from you?

And if God is good, then He will not hide Himself from you?

I must make something beautiful

the pain in the world is great

suffering… misery… torture, even

and here I am making a masterpiece

why even bother?

what good will a painting do
while a child is dying?

how can a poem be worth writing
while books are being burned?

who wants to compose music
while the martyrs are screaming?

my ink is blood, sweat, and tears
my palette holds the colors of fire and water
my notes are the heart-cry of tortured souls
because I must make something beautiful from the pain in the world

  

what I wouldn’t give for a rainy day

I should have rehung the curtains last week
the sunlight makes it impossible to sleep
impossible to shut out the world and forget
I don’t need the rest – I slept all night –
I need the escape

what I wouldn’t give for a rainy day
why can’t the sky reflect the gloominess inside?

the light streams through broken blinds
piercing the darkness in my soul
and making me bleed tears

I bury myself in blankets
but that only lasts a few minutes
the sun is not only light, it is also warmth

what I wouldn’t give for a winter storm
why can’t the weather abet the chill of my icy heart?

I need to get out
I wish it were possible to vacate my head
impossible – so I vacate my bed instead
sullenly, I retrieve and hang the curtains
then, not so sullenly, I wander outside

text message from God

praying
face in my pillow, sheet over my head
“where are you?” I ask
whispering into the dark
not because I think He isn’t there
but because I know He is
like calling out to your friend
when the lights go out in a cave

my phone vibrates
I didn’t know God had my number
“…be blessed today…”
God’s name isn’t at the top of my screen when I read the message
but the name of one of His children is
an obedient child, delivering a message for his Father

“I’m with you”
says the text, though not in so many words
“I see you”
“I hear”
“I provide what you need, right when you need it”

sometimes what I need is some great miracle
and other times
I just need a simple text