C.S. Lewis from God In The Dock: Essays In Theology and Ethics

“Many of the obstacles to the life of thought and love which is meditation come from the fact that people insist on walling themselves up inside themselves in order to cherish their own thoughts and their own experiences as a kind of private treasure. They misinterpret the gospel parable of the talents, and as a result they bury their talent in a napkin instead of putting it to work and increasing it. Even when we come to live a contemplative life, the love of others and openness to others remain, as in the active life, the condition for a living and fruitful inner life of thought and love. The love of others is a stimulus to interior life, not a danger to it, as some mistakenly believe.” AM with MERTON

Lord of the loving heart, may mine be loving too,
Lord of the gentle heart, may mine be gentle too.
Lord of the willing feet, may mine be willing too.
So may I grow more like you
In all I say and do. Amen.”

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Of my dear God with all my power and might;

But I was told by one it could not be;

Yet I might trust in God to be my light.

“Then will I trust,” said I, “in Him alone.”

“Nay, e’en to trust in Him was also His:

We must confess that nothing is our own.”

“Then I confess that He my succour is.”

“But to have nought is ours, not to confess

That we have nought.” I stood amaz’d at this,

Much troubled, till I heard a friend express

That all things were more ours by being His;

What Adam had, and forfeited for all,

Christ keepeth now, who cannot fail or fall.

George Herbert (1593-1633)

Fifteen seconds. Imagine you had fifteen seconds to find shelter from an incoming missile. Fifteen seconds to locate your children, help an elderly relative, assist a disabled person to find shelter.

That’s all the residents of Sderot and neighboring Israeli towns have.

Day or night, the sirens go on. Fifteen seconds later, the missiles, fired from Hamas-controlled Gaza, hit. They could hit a home, a school, a hospital. Their aim is to kill and wound and demoralize.

Imagine yourself in that situation.

The sirens blast. 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. The time to seek shelter has ended. The missiles hit.

This is what Israelis experience daily. But, amazingly, they refuse to be cowed. Help us help those Israelis. Visit www.ajc.org.

Visit the AJC link above and this link below to show your support…

I think I know the feeling Harry Breaker Morant must’ve had when he said…

We may not camp to-morrow, for we’ve many a mile to go,
Ere we turn our horses’ heads round to make tracks for down below.
There’s many a water-course to cross, and many a black-soil plain,
And many a mile of mulga ridge ere we get back again.

But we did camp this night… lots and lots of work behind this and don’t want to push it too hard the first night. Church was pretty rough today…. Lots of tears and heartache. How can I explain the vast disparity between human sorrow and Godly joy? We said “goodbye” to our new married daughter and a super son-in-law, and to others who have launched out in their own journey with Jesus, becoming as close as family in the process. Ahh, how can I do this? And yet, how can I not?

My hymn of comfort today was written by Henry F. Lyte

Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord with me abide.
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me.

Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day;
Earth’s joys grow dim; its glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see;
O Thou who changest not, abide with me.

Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word;
But as Thou dwell’st with Thy disciples, Lord,
Familiar, condescending, patient, free.
Come not to sojourn, but abide with me.

Come not in terrors, as the King of kings,
But kind and good, with healing in Thy wings,
Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea—
Come, Friend of sinners, and thus bide with me.

Thou on my head in early youth didst smile;
And, though rebellious and perverse meanwhile,
Thou hast not left me, oft as I left Thee,
On to the close, O Lord, abide with me.

I need Thy presence every passing hour.
What but Thy grace can foil the tempter’s power?
Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.

I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.
Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.

Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies.
Heaven’s morning breaks, and earth’s vain shadows flee;
In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.

“Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow” Shakespeare