THE PROMISE

When we make the promise to follow Christ, our lives no longer belong to ourselves.  The decisions we make are based on truth, and not feelings.  In a world where everything is watered down, let us remember our faith doesn’t have to be.

It’s your life, and you decide

So why am I here bleeding?

I looked behind in hopes to find,

the reason I should care.

It’s not about our DNA,

although that should be reason enough

to ache this way.

It’s about THE PROMISE.

We both took an oath,

that the road would be all about Him

until the end of time.

Where’d ya go, pick up the phone?

It’s not just me here bleeding.

You can run, but you can’t hide,

the Truth will find a way.

It’s not about our DNA,

although that should be reason enough

to ache this way.

It’s about THE PROMISE.

We both took an oath,

that the road would be all about Him

until the end of time.

Who flipped the switch on you?

How did he get to you?

What kind of lie soaked through your skin?

You can’t prevent His love,

Nothing will be enough,

until you lay it down again.

Come on lay it down again.

©Cindy Palin/October 3rd, 2014

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The Kind of Freedom that Chases Bitterness into Hell

I need to deviate from my spring cleaning blog-apades to talk about the saddest truth in the world.  I know – talk about jumping from the trivial to the life threatening, or should I say soul sickening?

I was reading a blog yesterday, someone said Jesus never promised us a wonderful life.  The writer’s point is only half-true.  Jesus asks we believers to pick up our cross and follow him.  Grant it, carrying a cross doesn’t necessarily sound “wonderful”.  But I can’t think of anything more hopeful and peaceful. What ever cross it turns out to be for you or for me, we don’t have to carry it alone.  And staring truth in the face makes our cross so much lighter.

At first I thought the saddest truth in the world was that everyone gets hurt.  But now I know the saddest truth in the world is that everyone at one time or another forgets Jesus hurt the most so we wouldn’t have to.

We get hurt and lose sight of everything except ourselves.  When Jesus hung on the cross he saw everyone and everything but himself.

If you’re hurting today and you’re tired of waiting around for cast to come off…

Think of the person who hurt you and do something that will make them feel better.  Run towards them like your life and their life depends on it.  Because it does.  And what ever you do, don’t second guess yourself.  Faith isn’t about second guessing.

Run towards that person and wrap your arms around them.  No buts, no justifications, no judging, no wriggling out of it, no high and mighty religious excuses.  Don’t think!

I can’t promise what they will do.  But I want to be around when I see you smile.  The kind of smile that changes the world, the kind of freedom that chases bitterness into hell.

O Promised Love

When I witness one more abandoned soul, one more broken promise , one more casualty of love, I ache inside.  I long for justice.

For one fleeting second I wonder – does God see the injustice?  Does God care?  Why isn’t He doing something?  And then I remember.

God did not reach down and yank the whip away from Christ‘s flogger.  God did not reach down and tenderly lift the crown of thorns off of his son’s head.  God did not reach down with might and fury and prevent the hammer from driving the large spikes into Christ’s flesh but he did do something.  He reached down and intervened for his son’s killers by letting his son die because God knew that only that kind of love would save us from ourselves.  The innocent for the guilty, the grace for the undeserved.

Thousands of years have fled the earth like falling stars flee the sky,

since they lashed their claws to bare the bone

And he let them – for you, O promised love whom we discard

Thousands of years have passed overhead like wisps of clouds gone by,

since they crowned his brow in broken glass

And he wore it – for you, O promised love whom we molest

Thousands of years have circled the earth as the earth chases the sun,

since they drove their teeth into his veins

And his wrists burned – for you, O promised love whom we leave for dead

Love chose our name when he poured out the seas

Love called our name when he writhed his last breath

Love carried our name in the fold of his arm, near the song of his heart

When he marched from the tomb, and he did it for me, he did it for you

O promised love – whom we adore!

We are not abandoned!

©May 4th, 2013 Cindy Palin