“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me.
Get away with me and you’ll recover your life.
I’ll show you how to take a real rest.
Walk with me and work with me– watch how I do it.
Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.
I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you.
Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”
— Matthew 11:28-30
Lord God, thank you for the unforced rhythms of grace. Thank you for offering us this to live in, to crawl into and wrap around us and live in. Please teach me how to walk with You and work with You and live in the unforced rhythms of grace…
I’m thankful for the message of this song. The reminder. Sometimes He holds my heart through music, through the truth which flows out. Thank You, Jesus.
God meets all our needs so extravagantly. He is so good!
I’ve been getting holes in my tops, and following a suggestion from a blogger that it might be caused by leaning against kitchen worktops, I was really keen to get myself an apron, but it just wasn’t at the top of my priority list, so it was going to have to wait…
Well today, a very dear friend of mine who shares my love language of gifts, came up to me after church and presented me with a brown paper bag tied with a ribbon… Inside: a beautiful rose patterned apron! I was moved to tears by her kindness and thoughtfulness: thank you for bringing me such a wonderful blessing!
Thank You, Lord for my Grandpa.
For this “meanwhile” time in the states, and since he’s lost Grandma, we’ve moved in with him. We made the move last week and we’re all adjusting.
I find the moments most beautiful when we’re sitting down to a meal together. I never realized as a child what a story-teller my Grandpa is. I appreciate it so much now! At nigh every meal, he has a new story to tell us from somewhere in the recesses of his 81 year history. About being a poor boy in a dusty prairie town in Nebraska, and his father’s few cents raise which allowed the kids to buy shoes! And the way he reached into a guy’s mouth whom had swallowed his own tongue after Grandpa knocked him out for shoving Grandpa’s Mom! And how he fell for Grandma, hook, line, and sinker, over 60 years ago. He remembers the exact street they were on when she told him she loved him for the first time. He showed the nondescript spot to me this summer when we were in Nebraska. The time he was in charge of delivering 80-some head of cattle of their calves which had been bred too big for their weight, having to reach into the cow and take the calves out in pieces because the rich ranchers who had bred them had no cattle sense. And the smart-aleck-y way my Grandma told him, “You’re going soft” when he threatened to shoot a guy who came to him liquored up over a property dispute, and then how he and the same guy went out fixing fences together on the said property. There are a lot of stories of fist fights… He had a bit of an Irish temper, I’d say 🙂
We just never know what story is going to come out next. 81 years can hold many many many stories… And, with this Grandpa of mine, they are each one more colourful than the last 🙂
Thank you, Lord, for him. I love him so. May he know you more and more…