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The Book Thief
One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are
On Gold Mountain
Bread & Wine: Readings for Lent and Easter
City of Tranquil Light: A Novel
The Distant Land of My Father
The Paris Wife
Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy
Fall of Giants
Sabbath
World Without End
A Stolen Life
Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience and Redemption
The Pillars of the Earth
Sacred Rhythms: Arranging Our Lives for Spiritual Transformation
The Road
Trials of the Earth: The Autobiography of Mary Hamilton
The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society
The Accidental Billionaires: The Founding of Facebook, a Tale of Sex, Money, Genius and Betrayal
Cutting for Stone


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Friday
Dec132013

dark

If I am to realize that the light of Christ shines within me, I must also see my darkness. 

Yesterday a funk overcame me. Often during this time of year, I can feel the tentacles of darkness wrap around me. They come in the form of the elephant sitting on my chest when I think about getting the shopping done. They call out to me in the voice of hyenas when I sit parked in gridlock on Mallory Lane. They appear to me as blindness when I cannot see the sun for several days during gray Tennessee winters. 

And yesterday they got the best of me. I will spare you the details but suffice it to say that I did not love well. My best moments were when I closed my mouth and did not speak. And I did not recover until this morning. 

Friday mornings are becoming a sanctuary to me. I have a chunk of time to sit and listen to silence, to the Shepherd’s Voice, to the truth about Christmas. The Advent book I read every hear has several meditations from authors who were martyred in WWII. Perspective.

Today I have been challenged to muse JUSTICE. I can tell you that I know nothing of it here on this earth. The only picture I have of it is the baby in the manger.

When Mary sounded off her magnificat, she said that God had bared His arm and showed His strength. She spoke of tyrants being knocked down off their high horses. Victims are pulled out of the mud. The poor, she said, sit down to a banquet while the callous rich are left out in the cold. Luke 1:51-53

And several months later, she gave birth mostly alone on a dark night in a dirty stable to a baby. I cannot miss the contrast in her song and her reality. 

Meditating on the baby who will accomplish all that is written in Mary’s Song has softened my hard edges. 

His light overshadows my darkness. He shows me through weakness, through vulnerability; I find My Strength. 

The true light that gives light to every man was coming into the world. John 1:9

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