We are talking about God. What wonder is it that you do not understand? If you do understand, then it is not God.

- St. Augustine

Your crown of glory lies embedded in the very heart of these things–those hardships and trials that are pressing you this very hour, week and month of your life.

The hardest things are not those that the world knows of. Down in your secret soul unseen and unknown by any but Jesus, there is a little trial that you would not dare to mention that is harder for you to bear than martyrdom.

There, beloved, lies your crown. God help you to overcome, and sometime wear it.

-selected from Streams In The Desert

Crying is all right in its way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later and then you still have to decide what to do. When Jill stopped, she found she was dreadfully thirsty.

…The wood was so still that it was not difficult to decide where the sound was coming from. It grew clearer every moment and, sooner than she expected, she came to an open glad and saw the stream, bright as glass, running across the turf a stone’s throw away from her. But although the sight of the water made her feel ten times thirstier than before, she didn’t rush forward and drink. She stood as still as if she had been turned into stone, with her mouth wide open. And she had a very good reason: just on this side of the stream lay the Lion.

“If I run away, it’ll be after me in a moment,” thought Jill. “And if I go on, I shall run straight into its mouth”…And the thirst became so bad that she almost felt she would not mind being eaten by the Lion if only she could be sure of getting a mouthful of water first.”

“…are you not thirst?” said the Lion.

“I’m dying of thirst,” said Jill.

“Then drink,” said the Lion.

“May I – could I – would you mind going away while I do?” said Jill,

“…will you promise not to – do anything to me, if I do come?”

“I make no promise,” said the Lion.

Jill was so thirsty now that, without noticing it, she had come a step nearer.

“Do you eat girls?” she said.

“I have swallowed up girls and boys, women and men, kings and emperors, cities and realms,” said the Lion. It didn’t say it as if it were boasting, nor as if it were sorry, nor as if it were angry. It just said it.

” I daren’t come and drink,” said Jill.

“Then you will die of thirst,” said the Lion.

“Oh dear!” said Jill, coming another step nearer. “I suppose I must go and look for another stream then.”

“There is no other stream,” said the Lion.

-  C.S. Lewis, The Silver Chair

“And friends, Romans, countrymen
Won’t you lend me your ears?
This Holy American Empire
Gotta tell you it’s crumblin’ down
To the ground

’cause everything’s for granted
And nothing is for sure
So let’s grab a Starbucks baby
And let’s spend a little more
Forget about the dreams we had
Just work and sleep until we’re dead
Are we blind to what’s ahead

Oh Lord, how long?

When memory’s for granted
Nothing is for sure
And history goes round and round
As we long for something more
We lie and wait for better days
With hope and fear and joy and dread
Or just ambivalent to what’s ahead?”

- The Cobalt Season, Like Jesus

What Do I Know Of Holy?

By Addison Road

I made You promises a thousand times
I tried to hear from Heaven
But I talked the whole time
I think I made You too small
I never feared You at all No
If You touched my face would I know You?
Looked into my eyes could I behold You?

What do I know of You
Who spoke me into motion?
Where have I even stood
But the shore along Your ocean?
Are You fire? Are You fury?
Are You sacred? Are You beautiful?
What do I know? What do I know of Holy?
I guess I thought that I had figured You out
I knew all the stories and I learned to talk about
How You were might to save
Those were only empty words on a page
Then I caught a glimpse of who You might be
The slightest hint of You brought me down to my knees

What do I know of You
Who spoke me into motion?
Where have I even stood
But the shore along Your ocean?
Are You fire? Are You fury?
Are You sacred? Are You beautiful?
What do I know? What do I know of Holy?

What do I know of Holy?
What do I know of wounds that will heal my shame?
And a God who gave life it’s name?
What do I know of Holy?
Of the One who the angels praise?
All creation knows Your name
On earth and heaven above
What do I know of this love?

What do I know of You
Who spoke me into motion?
Where have I even stood
But the shore along Your ocean?
Are You fire? Are You fury?
Are You sacred? Are You beautiful?
What do I know? What do I know of Holy?

Equally Skilled

by Jon Foreman

How miserable I am
I feel like a fruit-picker
Who arrived here
After the harvest
There’s nothing here at all
Nothing at all here
That could placate my hunger
The godly people are all gone
There’s not one honest soul left alive
Here on the planet
We’re all murderers and thieves
Setting traps here
For even our brothers

And both of our hands
Are equally skilled
At doing evil, equally skilled
At bribing the judges
Equally skilled
At perverting justice
Both of our hands
Both of our hands

The day of justice comes
And is even now swiftly arriving
Don’t trust anyone at all
Not your best friend
Or even your wife
For the son hates the father
The daughter despises even her mother
Look, your enemies arrive
Right in the room
Of your very household

And both of their hands
Are equally skilled
At doing evil
Equally skilled
At bribing the judges
Equally skilled
At perverting justice
Both of their hands
Both of their hands

No, don’t gloat over me
Though I fall, though I fall
I will rise again
Though I sit here in darkness
The Lord, the Lord alone
He will be my light
I will be patient
As the Lord
Punishes me
For the wrongs I’ve done
Against Him
After that
He’ll take my case
Bringing me
To light and the justice
For all I have suffered

And both of His hands
Are equally skilled
At ruining evil
Equally skilled
At judging the judges
Equally skilled
Administering justice
Both of His hands

Both of His hands
Are equally skilled
At showing me mercy
Equally skilled
At loving the loveless
Equally skilled
Administering justice
Both of His hands
Both of His hands