Category Archives: Spirituality

Good Friday

Poor Jesus.
He’s dead.
We brood, as if to endure the commemoration of it.
Can’t wait till Resurrection Sunday morning.
Death by death is destroyed
by remaining dead.
It can take life but once and no more.
Death is negated by itself,
and death is quiet because it’s dead.
There was a serenity in the quietness of his tomb that night.
The writhing approach of death arrived
and with it came quiet.
And it’s still quiet in there,
because what’s dead is dead,
including my right to myself.
The death I died with Jesus is forever
to whatever it was he died;
And the life he lives in me is forever
to whom he lives.
That me is unanimated, and can remain so.
His new life has a body to live in,
A dead one, animated only by what raised his.


a sparrow

You can buy two for a penny, cheap enough;

I see hundreds a day in a bamboo shrub on Point Street,

and they’ve become my friends as I pass by.


When I try to whistle their tune, they suddenly stop theirs;

I can’t know any one of them, just all of them,

The one like the other, nothing flashy, mostly brown.


He who inhabits eternity, and knows every star in His palace hall,

And having named each one, then surely these;

Not one falls to the ground without His notice.


Even as “My soul yearns, even faints for the courts of the Lord;

And my soul and my flesh cry out for the living God.”

So, too, “the sparrow has found a home” in His temple.


Another day after work, I walked again that sidewalk,

and there it lay, having fallen, insignificantly, a single dead bird.

Its Father watching, must have cried, and His tears fell from my eyes.


I stepped over the tiny body, then paused to looked;

The profundity of life in feathers, lifeless; known by its Maker;

And there I knew that God loves me, too.

Careful care

Many a thought flutters around in my head, whether I’m thought about by anyone at all. Jesus gave a warning that the cares of this life can cause us to miss how simply a lily or a bird lives by how complicatedly we sometimes do.

And those cares, according to Oswald Chambers, can be either having money or not having money, having friends or not having them. I can be careful (full of care) over the financial condition in which I find myself at this point in life. Being single also has a socially isolating effect as well.

But what Jesus says makes me think; what is it that lilies and birds know that I don’t know? The attention paid by both says a lot, e.g., they concentrate on living, they are unconscious of what they are.

Watch a little sparrow, how endlessly they jerk their little heads and hop about so erratically. They concentrate their efforts on surviving, yes. But more so on being a bird, looking for what the hand of God has left for them to find.

Lilies, as far as I know, have no brains or nerves or eyes, and yet they follow the warmth of the sunlit day from horizon to horizon, drinking in what makes them live and what makes them lilies.

Yet we may rightly contend that the sparrow and the lily are quite unaware of what they are doing by being what they are being. Lilies, after all, are mostly underground, mostly entombed.

They do best when planted deeply, and rarely produce flowers until the second year. The  significance of the bloom owes to the insignificance of the bulb.

I may want to remember that perhaps most days are necessarily as unseen as the lily’s bulb and as mundane brown as feathers on a sparrow. And as carefully cared for.

Ordinary grace days

I’ve decided to blog. Now to a subject. I guess most blogs would be about the blogger. And the blogger would need to be living in a story. Most of my life has been a non-story I think.
But since mid-2009, the story has changed. Or should I say, it has begun. Like a movie, I guess a blog should pick up wherever the character’s story finds him. For me, that would be in the arms of grace.
The thing about the arms of grace is that grace affects every event of life somehow. Any day, every day, can be grace-filled, at least grace-influenced. All of which means that I could write about ordinary days. But not every day, because I won’t blog everyday.
Recently the idea of one way love has been on my mind and I’m sure it has a lot to do with the fact that I just finished reading a book by that title by Tullian Tchividjian.
I’ve always believed, but more so in recent years, that there is nothing I can do to make God love me more, and there’s nothing I can do to make Him stop loving me. But what about God’s side of it? He expects nothing. That’s hard to understand.
We humans are made to merit what we get, even love. You can’t get something for nothing. But God does exactly that. He gets us to give ourselves, who are nothing, to Him, and He wants to make a something out of us. And He can. This is what He is up to in the ordinary days.