though earth give way
and mountains shall crumble
and all that we’ve trusted
one day will fail
the curtain’s been torn
between light and darkness
and in the end, light
will always prevail
Source: Where Are You God?
Photo Credit: File:Curtain of Water.JPG – Wikimedia Commons
When will we stop going on, life as usual, when we all know…it’s NOT?
Source: Half-mast
Photo Credit: Omote-sando hills | Imagine the craziest mall you’ve ever be… | Flickr
How easily we convince ourselves that material things are worthy of our labor, while the important things slip away unnoticed until tragedy strikes. The storms are ever closer, bidding us to open our eyes. Live for what’s important. Live for what truly matters. Live for what lasts. Don’t waste precious minutes fretting for that which is destined to fade. Stop. Now. Consider what’s truly worth living for.
Source: Gone in an Instant
Photo Credit: Close Up Photo of Dandelion · Free Stock Photo
The camera panned in as the funnel cloud tore through the subdivision across the street. I don’t know what the neighbor was thinking, standing by her window, videotaping the storm outside her door. Her hand was so steady, her voice so calm. If it were me, I’d be running for cover, even with the funnel cloud moving the opposite direction. But she seemed oblivious to imminent danger.
It must have been surreal, watching the world as she knew it come crumbling down before her eyes. Did she fear for her own life? Her own family? Her own house and things?
This tornado hit down about an hour from where I live—closer to home than any twister yet. For the woman behind the camera, it was inches away. Did the reality hit her as hard as it hit those across the street?
We see videos of hurricanes, tsunamis, typhoons, or tornadoes and are struck with the horror that faces the victims along with the fleeting thought of what if it happened to me? The thought washes away as quickly as the storm as we return to our daily lives. Are we ever sufficiently gripped with the reality that much of what we labor for could be gone in an instant? Can we honestly say what we invest our time, energy, and resources in is worth it if it can be so easily be destroyed?
I once watched a video of the Indonesian tsunami’s aftermath, and was taken by all the stuff floating through the water—stuff people had once invested their lives in…gone. More recently, I spoke with a woman who lost everything but her family to a fire. All she and her husband labored for…ashes and soot.
How easily we convince ourselves that material things are worthy of our labor, while the important things slip away unnoticed until tragedy strikes. The storms are ever closer, bidding us to open our eyes. Live for what’s important. Live for what truly matters. Live for what lasts. Don’t waste precious minutes fretting for that which is destined to fade. Stop. Now. Consider what’s truly worth living for.
“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matthew 6:19-21)
where are you, God
in the midst of the darkness?
we’re crying to you
in this desolate land
war rages around us
we’re searching for answers
to things
we can never understand
where are you, God
do you see our tears falling?
do you hear our prayers
and feel our pain?
the world is in anguish
our children are dying
the clouds of refreshing
withhold their rain
where are you God?
we’re hurting and hopeless
wounded and broken
and in distress
our own neighbors killing
destroying, devouring
can You bring forth beauty
from our hateful mess?
God, you came down
from light into darkness
born in the shadows
of earth’s darkest night
the forces of evil
releasing their fury
swords bent on destruction
consuming all life
you spoke to the madness
with love and compassion
to ears fallen deaf
in a world filled with strife
brought healing, redemption
though you were rejected
crushed by our hate
while releasing your light
and now you are here
in the midst of our suffering
calling to us
“don’t settle for this”
we’re made for much more
than what we’ve accepted
and this world is not
all that there is
so though earth give way
and mountains shall crumble
and all that we’ve trusted
one day will fail
the curtain’s been torn
between light and darkness
and in the end, light
will always prevail
Source: Where are You, God?
Photo Credit: Thunderstorm – Free images on Pixabay
It seems the flags have been flying half-mast more often than not these days. Sometimes we drive by, and we know. “Oh, it’s for that tragedy in such-and-such a city,” or, “It’s for the terror attack in that other town.” Other times, we don’t. “What now?” we ask.
I heard on the radio that our president has called for flags to be at half-mast on sixty-seven occasions since he took office. And how many more times will that call go forth as we tread through the coming years in our sin-plagued land?
Half-mast “refers to a flag flying beneath its summit on a pole” as a symbol of “respect, mourning, or distress.” Do we realize the degree of distress our country is in when we so consistently see flags flying half-mast? Or do we walk on, somber for a moment, soon forgetting the distress call? Has it become so commonplace that we fail to remember the symbolism?
As the flags fly beneath their summit, maybe our hearts need to be half-mast as well. Respecting, mourning, remembering. Understanding of the times.
What tragedy will it take to bring us to our knees? When will we humble ourselves and turn from our selfish ways? When will we turn to the one who created us for so much more than what we’ve settled for? When will we admit that we need help? When will we pray?
And when will we stop going on, life as usual, when we all know…it’s NOT?
Every time we see flags at half-mast, it serves as a wake-up call. We are not invincible. We are not all-sufficient. We need a savior.
Photo Credit: Half-mast – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
The camera panned in as the funnel cloud tore through the subdivision across the street. I don’t know what the neighbor was thinking, standing by her window, videotaping the storm outside her door. Her hand was so steady, her voice so calm. If it were me, I’d be running for cover, even with the funnel cloud moving the opposite direction. But she seemed oblivious to imminent danger.
It must have been surreal, watching the world as she knew it come crumbling down before her eyes. Did she fear for her own life? Her own family? Her own house and things?
This tornado hit down about an hour from where I live—closer to home than any twister yet. For the woman behind the camera, it was inches away. Did the reality hit her as hard as it hit those across the street?
We see videos of hurricanes, tsunamis, typhoons, or tornadoes and are struck with the horror that faces the victims along with the fleeting thought of what if it happened to me? The thought washes away as quickly as the storm as we return to our daily lives. Are we ever sufficiently gripped with the reality that much of what we labor for could be gone in an instant? Can we honestly say what we invest our time, energy, and resources in is worth it if it can be so easily be destroyed?
I once watched a video of the Indonesian tsunami’s aftermath, and was taken by all the stuff floating through the water—stuff people had once invested their lives in…gone. More recently, I spoke with a woman who lost everything but her family to a fire. All she and her husband labored for…ashes and soot.
How easily we convince ourselves that material things are worthy of our labor, while the important things slip away unnoticed until tragedy strikes. The storms are ever closer, bidding us to open our eyes. Live for what’s important. Live for what truly matters. Live for what lasts. Don’t waste precious minutes fretting for that which is destined to fade. Stop. Now. Consider what’s truly worth living for.
“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matthew 6:19-21)
This Life & Beyond 
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