So now it's this time of year.
The tractor's noise is hard to miss;
not easily forgotten.
And it painfully seems to me,
an ignorant person in agriculture,
that it just tramples over the wheat,
crushes every stalk.
The long growing crops, that soaked up the sun
and the glory of standing tall,
together enjoying the beautiful spring days,
are now so very suddenly...
Their purity ruined by a dirty machine,
dry, useless, crushed they lay there...
And it's just another step in the process.
I used to think one day I would become a motivational writer...so I'm writing a note to self.
A lot of effort went into these past 2 years. It's not worth giving up now.
You've strived and tried, listened and obeyed, and did the best you could. Don't let a pissy attitude get in the way now.
You have what it takes - the brains and the heart to follow in full faith God's will for your life at this precise moment.
They hurt you and offend you, don''t choke yourself to death. Don't allow their insensitivity to be the death of you. Nothing can dampen the Spirit of God that lives in you - He conquered the grave.
Be holy just as He is hoy,
perfect just as He is perfect,
in our weakness we are strong
because it is no longer us...
no longer Bettina, But Jesus, that is living me.
It would have been nice, if someone asked about me, but that's not what life's about right?
How can we listen
to recorded birds sing
or a stream flow...
But then put in headphones
whilst we walk past
the tree full of birds near the seaside...?
How can we do all that we do
and still feel we never do anything good enough...?
How can we look the way we do
and never feel beautiful enough?
How can we use laptops and phones
to talk to people
whilst being surrounded
by others we choose to ignore?
Some things in life we'll never understand.
I free my days
but i can't free my mind.
Sure I come before you
day after day,
but after that
my mind is elsewhere -
But how does that make any sense?
If i know just a tiny bit about who i'm serving and how fragile life is.
Like a fizzy bottle
shaken so many times
But never opened,
nothing seems to fuzz me up anymore.
You can fail
and still be loved,
You can hate
and still be wanted,
You can stay silent,
and still be spoken to,
Because that's what love is.
I guess after a week
of just sitting across each other,
whilst we both cried in each other's presence,
without muttering a word,
to ruin the comforting silence,
the ice was shattered.
This week I guess I'm still sobbing,
but in Your embrace.
Perhaps still... words are too much,
But I'm in Your arms.
You're keeping me up.
Thank you for crying with me.
"The merits of the messenger may distract attention away from the message;
the bearer of the good tidings may stand too much in their way.
By contrast, the simplicity, the vulnerability of a messenger,
may highlight how immeasurably beyond him the mystery of the message he is called to proclaim is.
Jesus is more than a flawless model.
Flawless models are frustrating when we are unable to live up to them.
Jesus is more than a model.
He really saves. "