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Archive for February, 2013

If life begins at conception, I’m disappointed.

Jesus didn’t begin at conception: “In the beginning, The Word already existed.” John 1:1 NLT

No, I don’t have some strange Messiah complex. I just happen to know that you and I weren’t just formed in the wombs of our moms. Nor through the will of a man. As incredible as pregnancy and birth are here, there is still a misconception about conception.

Jesus was on the scene long before the manger scene. So were you and me. “The Word was with God, and the Word was God. He existed in the beginning with God. God created everything through him, and nothing was created except through him. The Word gave life to everything that was created, and his life brought light to everyone.” John 1:1-4 NLT

There’s a lot to this. Jesus is seen as not just the firstborn, but also as the One through whom we came to be. So, just like His earthly birth came after He already was in heaven, there is something to be said about our pre-earthly-birth.

The implications are staggering because it is easy to limit ourselves to the finite. We have a body. Oh, yea, maybe even some desires. What a grotesque underestimation. It’s almost sickening. Jesus is at once our infinite God and a prototype for what man was meant to be. Again, no heresy here. Our unbelief makes us blind to all of the light we were meant to shine…”his life brought light to everyone.” John 1:4 NLT This is what separates believers from unbelievers. Maybe that’s why they call Christians “believers?” 

Adam and Eve’s fall is called “original sin.” But, if there were ever an original sin, I would say that it is dissing God by limiting ourselves to our own conception of who we are and who we were made to be. That’s not just misconception, that’s spiritual abortion.

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The Used Handerkerchief

The Used Handkerchief

 

Some say he was an old saint

With tree trunk skin

Wrinkled proof that we are not

Old nor quite the saint

But we, he ne’er forgot

 

I came upon his cabin

Sparse but a bible, chair

And the woodstove for tea

And to take the chill out of

his brushes with the enemy

 

I came to see the used handkerchief

enshrined now in a glass box

embedded yellow stains

from the bellows

and not a crease remains

 

No, there were no patterns

But what the day brought

As if wrestling myopic pain

What Samsom could not bear

For not a crease remains

 

There was such richness

Molded into the linen blend

Tears seemed to mix with rain

As if two men used one cloth

Where not a crease remains

 

One remarked she thought

It a disgusting sight

A trip taken in vain

A shriveled overstatement

For not a crease remains

 

She thought that a home

Should have some folded neatly

Others said quite the same

It wasn’t dignified or clean

For not a crease remains

 

I sniffled at their coldness

and the lack of wood in the stove

But still plenty of burning pain

I reached for my handkerchief

So many creases remained

Image

 

“The Used Handkerchief” was written by Robert J. LaCosta, but please feel free to “use” it.

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